


You're Not What I Expected

by Up_OWL_Night



Series: Love is strange (and that's okay) [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe- Strip club, Angst, Artist Kageyama, Children, Fluff, Gay Bar, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Model Oikawa Tooru, Multi, Prostitution, Queerplatonic Relationships, Siblings, Slow Burn, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Unrequited Love, college students
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-05-16 21:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5842315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Up_OWL_Night/pseuds/Up_OWL_Night
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'll scour the city, everywhere I have to!" Kageyama declared. "I won't rest until I find him again!"<br/>"Or," Oikawa interjected, not bothering to look up from his phone, "you could always just go back to the club. I mean, he does work there."</p><p>In which Kageyama is an artist who finds unlikely inspiration in a stripper's performance and is desperate to meet the enchanting man again.<br/>Hinata isn't exactly sure what to do with the strange blue eyed customer, but hey- money is money, and he certainly needs that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nature of Inviting

Tobio Kageyama despises the people he calls friends.

"Hello beauties! I'm coming to you live on my way to my favorite club, The Raven. Party time!" Oikawa blows a kiss at the screen before ending the video. He watches it again, nodding. "Alright, this one works."

"Fifth times the charm," Kageyama says with a scowl.

Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him. For a twenty-seven year old man, he acts more like a five year old. He posts the video to his Snapchat quickly, pocketing the bedazzled phone in his leather jacket. "Beauty isn't easy, Tobio-chan."

"Neither is constantly being an asshole, but you manage to pull that off." He ignores the wounded noise that Oikawa makes, shoving his hands deep inside the pockets of his jeans. He regrets, for the millionth time, not wearing a coat. "Why am I here again?"

Oikawa skips in front of him. "Because you're my best friend and you love me."

"No, that's definitely not it."

"Well then it must be because you're a hermit and I, being an awesome and perfect person, decided to bring you into the world of the living."

"I have a project due, Tooru."

"Just paint me."

"Never again."

While Kageyama says that, it's probably not the worst idea. Oikawa and him had originally met through a similar situation in Kageyama's realistic art class during his first year of college. Tooru Oikawa, the class's first nude model of the term, had strutted in, torn off his clothes, and declared "paint me like one of your French girls." Oikawa spent most of the semester bothering Kageyama, even more so when the two were paired for a final project. As much as the older man annoyed him, Kageyama enjoyed drawing him. Ascetically speaking, Tooru Oikawa is drop dead gorgeous. That's probably why he has done so well in the model industry, and as a Youtuber. (His personality is too shitty for there to be any other reasoning.) Perhaps Kageyama should paint him for this project too. But no, that would be akin to admitting defeat, and he isn't willing to do that just yet.

"Well then maybe you'll be able to find some inspiration tonight!"

"You think I'll find my inspiration in some shitty club?"

"Tobio-chan! How rude of you!" Oikawa exclaims, aghast. "This club is amazing, you'll see. It's also gayer than-"

"You?"

"Oh would you look at that! We're here!"

"Wow, way to sound like some closet case." Nevertheless, he looks at the club before them. It's fairly standard, honestly. The low black building would blend into the night around it if not for the neon orange words, 'The Raven' curling across it. What he immediately notices, however, is the line of people wrapped around the building.

"Wow, it's really busy."

_"Tooru,"_ Kageyama growls. "How the hell do you expect us to get in with this crowd?!"

"Calm down Tobio-chan. Trust your elders, I got this."

Kageyama is certainly not calm and does not trust Oikawa one bit.

Even so, he follows the brunette- straight to the front of the line. "Today is the day I die," Kageyama mutters, avoiding the horrified looks of the others in line.

"Hush Tobes." Oikawa struts towards the bouncer, a mammoth of a man with dark skin and hair falling just past his shoulders. "Hey there Asahi," Oikawa greets when he reaches the door.

"Ah, Oikawa." The bouncer, Asahi, smiles, and Kageyama feels infinitely less afraid of him. "How are you?"

"Super cold. I also just updated my Snapchat, so you wanna check it out or...?"

"No need, I trust you." He steps aside. "Go on in."

"Thanks!" Oikawa waves, dragging Kageyama through the entrance. The hallway is pitch black, lit only by a string of black lights along the floor.

"What the fuck just happened?" Kageyama hisses.

"Bi'ness." Kageyama hits his shoulder. "Ow, ow, alright! Jeez. Look, you know how I do advertising on my channel, right? And people pay me to do that?" They head down a staircase lit similarly to the hallway. "Well awhile back when I first found this place I made a deal with the owner. Now I advertise for the club, and they let me in for free! Plus I get to skip the line, which is super cool. Oh hey, here we are."

The music shakes his entire being, and lights have flooded the space, pushing at the walls in a desperate attempt to escape from its confines. An obsidian bar lines the edges. The crowd on the dance floor is an ocean of people, a sea of energy more vibrant than the strobing colored lights.

Kageyama thinks that this might actually be fun.

oOo

Merciful Buddha he was so wrong.

The first hour or so had been alright. Oikawa had ordered them drinks, claiming that "if I'm not so shit-faced by the end of tonight that I haven't tried to fuck Tobio, this outing has been a failure." (Kageyama is still trying to determine what you pay a bartender to not serve someone.) Then it all spiraled downhill when he was dragged onto the dance floor.

Kageyama isn't a huge fan of crowds. He can tolerate them, but if given the option he would rather avoid them. He also isn't one to frequent clubs or bars, so he wasn't prepared for the catastrophe that would be his first time on the dance floor. It was probably his inexperience that was his downfall. He didn't know how to move with the sway of the crowd, the mob of bodies, therefore; he was lost within it. While Oikawa was having a grand time, Kageyama was being jostled around by jarring elbows. He had his feet stepped on countless times, and he's positive that his stomach is now black and blue. After suffering through that maltreatment for almost an hour, he'd stumbled away from the mob and collapsed onto one of the couches, thankful for the reprieve. He sits there now, taking a long sip of gin.

"Tobio-chan~" a voice sings, "why'd you leave?"

He watches Oikawa face plant onto the cushion beside him with mild amusement. "Are you drunk?"

"Not enough." Oikawa straightens, stealing his drink and downing the rest of it.

"What, did you get bored of grinding on strangers?" Kageyama grimaces at his now empty glass.

"The Raven always has the most interesting people," he exclaims, ignoring Kageyama. "I think they're just drawn to this place or something."

"So go find one of them instead of stealing my drink."

"And I saw this super gorgeous mysterious guy too, and he had these cat-like eyes that were practically _glowing_ Tobio-chan, it was so cool."

"Then why aren't you with him?"

He sighs dramatically. "Well he also looked like he didn't want to be here whatsoever, and then he disappeared into the back. So that means he's there with one of the workers."

"So sex?"

"Most likely." He sags against Kageyama's shoulder. "My life is struggle."

"You're a true martyr."

The strobing lights that had filled the club cease, replaced instead by a low pulse of orange light, centered around a nearby stage. The song changes, a heavy bass combined with an almost tribal sounding drum.

"Oh hey," Oikawa turns to face the stage. "I guess that means the show is starting."

"Show?"

"Hush Tobio-chan."

A voice echoes throughout the darkness. "Good evening." How melodramatic. "For this evening's main performance, you'll be graced by the rays of our very own little god, Apollo." A shimmering curtain rises slowly, revealing who Kageyama can only assume is a literal angel, or perhaps as the voice says- a god.

Stretching languidly, smiling coyly, is Apollo. His porcelain skin glitters in the stage lights as if it is littered with jewels. He glides across the stage in heeled sandals before wrapping himself around the center stage pole like an eel. Clad only in red shorts, he twists himself around it, throwing his head back. _'Laughing,'_ Kageyama realizes. _'He's laughing.'_ His hair burns, an orange flame subdued only by the blue beads tied throughout it. He pulls himself up, using the pole as leverage, and then pools of amber are gazing into Kageyama's soul and he can't remember how to breathe.

"Fuck." He reaches for his glass, hand shaking, before realizing that Oikawa had emptied it already. Everything is suddenly too heavy, too bright, and he is burning within this man's stare.

It's almost as if he knows this, the provocative half smile decorating his face growing as he twirls. The music changes again, the drumbeat quickening, and Apollo glows. He pauses momentarily, allowing the song to flow through him.

And then he dances.

Kageyama can only watch, entranced, as the stage is transformed into a wildfire by this dancer. His movements are as fluid as water, slow and leisurely before he breaks into an explosion of motion. True to his name, he burns like the sun- enchanting, powerful, untouchable. Not once does he stop smiling, whether it's a sly smirk or a full-blown grin, his enthusiasm never faltering. He bends and twists, contorting his body in ways that should be impossible for a human. All eyes are fixated on him. The crowd once surging with energy and movement is now frozen, captured by this man's strange allure.

"He's good, isn't he?" Oikawa whispers. Although he grins playfully, his voice is rough. Even he has been affected by this mysterious creature. "Apollo's one of their best. What do you think?"

Kageyama can't look away. "He's gorgeous, magnificent, he's..." perfect material.

He's reaching for his pockets before he can even finish the thought.

Oikawa had insisted that he shouldn't bring his jacket, for some ridiculous reason about it 'not going with the outfit' or whatever. With the limited space in his jean pockets, and the fear of being robbed, Kageyama had decided to forgo bringing his phone. He could go without it for a night. However, there was one thing he could never go without.

"Did you seriously bring a sketch pad to a club?!"

Kageyama ignores Oikawa's outburst, instead pulling a pencil from his other pocket. The small notepad is hard to draw on, but he makes do. Working furiously, squinting in the dim light, he glances back and forth between the dancer and the page. He curses, seeing the graphite skid along the paper.

"Tooru give me your phone, I need light."

"What? No!"

"Why not?"

"Because you don't do that- Tobio!"

He attempts to reach into the others pocket, but Oikawa hits his hand away. They grapple, the brunette lifting the device just out of reach as Kageyama scrambles around on top of him.

"Hand it over!"

"You're being ridiculous!"

"I need to draw him!"

"Tobio just calm down, holy shit!"

When the music stops, they both freeze. Back on stage, Apollo blows a kiss to the crowd, hips swaying as he dips behind the lowering curtain. The applause is deafening- the entire club must be shaking with the force of it all. Kageyama struggles to hear himself think.

When the applause has quieted fractionally, the voice from earlier returns. "I hope you all enjoyed seeing our very own Apollo work his magic. The other dancers will be out again shortly, so maybe you'll catch a glimpse of the little god again. Have a good night everybody." The music returns, and the crowd pulses with revitalized energy.

Kageyama stares at the vacant stage. "He's gone."

"Oh yeah, I guess we missed the last part of the show." Oikawa crosses his arms, pouting. "It was totally your fault though! Attacking me like a crazy person. You can't just go around doing that Tobio-chan! People will think.."

He tunes out his chatter in favor of organizing his thoughts. So he hadn't gotten a chance to draw Apollo while he was dancing- that wasn't good. He didn't necessarily need a live model though; he could just draw from memory. If he could sketch out the dancer well enough, then maybe he'd be able to use that for inspiration. Yeah, a combination of memories and sketches would be fine.

Perfectly fine.

Kageyama stands abruptly, startling Oikawa. "Hey, what the hell- where are you going?!" He scrambles after the dark haired boy purposefully heading towards the exit.

"My apartment."

"Look I'm sorry about the dancer but-"

"I need to draw."

"Huh?"

They are practically sprinting now, blowing past the crowd as they burst out of the club and into the crisp night air. Asahi calls after them, telling them to have a good night, and Oikawa waves back distractedly. Kageyama walks through the city with single minded determination. "I have to do this immediately, before I forget."

"Tobio, wait, just- oh my god just slow down!" Oikawa clings to the other's arm, trying not to lose the boy in the thickening crowd. "Tobio!"

He's not listening though, having already pulled the sketch pad out again. Barely aware of his surroundings, he attempts to retrace the curve of Apollo's body, the flow of his arms, the fluidity of his movements, while still capturing the flame within.

_'Finally,'_ Kageyama thinks, _'some inspiration.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hello there, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my new Haikyuu story! Hopefully you'll consider following it, since it will be continuing for quite a while after this. I'm glad to say that the second chapter is already being written! So let's begin this with a couple of notes, just to get things started!  
> -Yes, you heard right at the beginning when I said Oikawa has a bedazzled phone case. I hope that made some of you smile.  
> -About Hinata's stage name: The god Apollo, god of the Sun (among other things such as music, poetry, healing, etc.) replaced the titan Helios, who previously had command over the Sun.  
> No, titans and giants are not the same creature, in fact they are completely separate beings in Greek mythos, but I saw the similarities and couldn't help myself. You see, just as the gods surpassed the titans, Hinata will one day surpass his idol "the little giant." So I decided to make his stage name Apollo, the little god.  
> -The chapter title is "Nature of Inviting" by IAMX  
> -The story will be switching between different perspectives so please be prepared for that. I will also add tags and warnings as they apply.  
> Questions? Comments? Leave all down below! I appreciate all the time you take to read my stories and I really hope you enjoyed. Lots of love!


	2. Music People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the life of Shouyou Hinata.

Shouyou Hinata detests alarms.

The incessant beeping grates on his nerves, turning his mood sour the moment he awakens. He didn't always hate them so, but when he had suffered through two mornings of waking up to the blaring noise after working a nine hour shift, his opinion worsened considerably. After a considerable amount of phone-throwing, wall-pounding, and hair-tearing, Hinata switched to a more pleasant wake up system, namely, music. This particular morning, the bubbly stylings of Marina and the Diamonds blasts through his speakers, forcing him to consciousness.

Yawning, he sits up in bed. He stretches his arms above him, head bobbing along to the tune. "Rule number one, is that you gotta have fun..." He hums along under his breath, leaping up from his cocoon of blankets. Tripping over himself, he attempts to pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants while tapping at his phone. Miraculously, he manages to do so without harming himself, and soon the song is echoing throughout the entire apartment.

Kicking down his bedroom door, he sings, "How to be a heartbreaker!~" He flails his arms wildly, spinning down the narrow hallway in time to the chorus. It's more screaming than singing, but that doesn't matter. The cramped hall opens into the main area, providing relief for his now bruised limbs. He continues his convoluted dance into the kitchen, hips swaying.

Of course Hinata isn't being this obnoxiously loud for no good reason. Without all this, there's no way he'd be able to get his best friend's attention. (Well, there is, but simply texting would be far too boring and a break in this well-developed tradition of theirs.) With the volume turned up to full power, and him screaming loud enough to be heard from space, he watches the clock. He has the sudden urge to hold up his hand to count down the seconds. In 3, 2, 1...

The door clicks open, revealing a deceptively blank faced Kozume Kenma. "Shouyou, for the last time, turn the music down or I will harm you."

"Aw come on Ken," he coos, leaning against the counter. "You couldn't hurt a fly."

"Don't test me." His face remains impassive, but he runs a hand through his blonde-dyed hair. _'The roots are showing again,’_ Hinata notes. _'He always forgets to re-dye them.'_

Hinata smothers his laughter behind a hand, complying with the aggravated man's request. "Happy?"

"Yes."

"You're lucky I'm so kind."

" _You're_ lucky _I_ don't dismantle the entire sound system."

Hinata gasps in mock horror. "What's this? Were all your loving words merely sweet nothings? How could you do this to me?!" He drapes himself over the counter, hand posed dramatically on his chest. "Kozume, my love, how could you betray me so?"

Kenma flicks his forehead.

Hinata straightens with a laugh. Actually, Kenma pretty much has complete control over the sound system. Hinata would never squander his money on something so elaborate, but the tech-savvy boy had given it to him as a gift. Teaching Hinata how to use it had been a challenge, during which three of Hinata's four mugs were chipped, two instruction manuals were shredded, and Uptown Funk was played on loop for three hours. Needless to say the experience was hellish, but the system was eventually set up. Hinata still only knows how to operate its basic functions. Kenma refuses to give him further instructions.

Kenma rolls his eyes at the other's theatrics. "Please try to have some sense of decency."

"No way," he grins. "I'd have to change careers."

"At least put a shirt on."

"But then you wouldn't be able to ogle my luscious body."

"You realize that you're a mess, right?"

He's not completely wrong. Hinata's makeup from last night is still smudged around his eyes, and he hasn't removed the beads from his hair or washed the glitter from his skin. He rubs at the residual eyeshadow, examining the smear it leaves on his fingertips.

"Nothing that a quick shower can't fix." His smile is lecherous. "Care to join?"

Kenma's face burns. "Shut up Shouyou."

"Fine, fine," he laughs. "Oh by the way, what did you think of my performance the other night? I didn't get to catch you afterwards."

"It was fine."

" _Just_ fine?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"How utterly amazed you were by my fantastic dancing skills."

"I was utterly amazed by your fantastic dancing skills," he deadpans.

"Kozume," he whines. "You're so mean! Come on, tell me what you really thought." He blinks up at him from between long lashes. "Pretty please?"

He inspects the younger male for a long time, to the point where Hinata is tempted to break the heavy silence himself. Finally, he admits in a low voice, "you were mesmerizing."

Hinata freezes, blinks, blinks again, attempts to speak, and goes back to staring at the now blushing man. That...is not what he was expecting. "You think so?"

"You always are when you dance."

Hinata averts his eyes from Kenma's cat-like gaze, feeling suffocated in the intensity. He busies himself with pulling a smoothie from the fridge. "I got some studio time scheduled today for practice."

He takes the topic change in stride. "You can dance just as well here."

"There's not as much space in my studio." The room seems fairly large, but only because it has no furnishings. Hinata had dismantled what was supposed to be a third bedroom, replacing carpeting with hardwood floors and covering the walls with mirrors. He is proud of his home-made dance studio, even if it isn't professional quality.

Kenma hums his agreement. "What time are you leaving?"

"I have time from 1 to 4."

"So now?"

Hinata pauses, turning to look at the wall clock, (a black cat shaped one with a swinging tail) checking the time. It reads 12:42. He curses, downing the rest of his drink. Kenma's chuckle rings in his ears as he stumbles through the apartment to his room.

"You want me to handle pick up today?" Kenma calls.

"Yes please!" Hinata tugs a random shirt over his head, grabbing his duffle bag as he goes. "You're the best Ken." He pulls on a pair of sneakers lying by the door.

"No problem." Kenma decides not to comment on how Hinata just stole his shoes.

He hops up, situating his bag on his shoulder. "I'll see you when I get back, okay?" Blowing a kiss behind him, Hinata jogs outside.

Kenma's eyes remain trained on the door long after he has left.

oOo

Exhaustion rests heavily on Hinata as he makes his way back home from his practice session. The weight runs deeps in his bones, pushes on his chest, his shoulders, drags like sandbags tied around his ankles, and yet he smiles. A lightness fills his very being, pulling him into twirls and skips as he dances up the stairs. It is the pleasure that comes from working until you can no longer move, running yourself ragged simply because you can. He feels better than he has in a long time.

"I'm home~" he sings, kicking the door closed behind him.

The pattering of small feet echoes through the apartment, and suddenly a ball of color is launching itself into his arms. "Big brother!"

Hinata laughs, ruffling the head of fiery hair. "Hey there Pumpkin. Miss me?"

Natsu Hinata beams at him, her smile dwarfing the rest of her features. Nodding her head wildly, she says, "it's okay though! I got to see Kozu; you should've told me he was picking me up from school! Yamaguchi-sensei thinks he's really nice, but I think Takeda-sensei was a little scared of him."

"Well Takeda-sensei is a scaredy cat." Hinata hoists her up into his arms. "Dang, you're getting heavy Babycakes."

"That's because I'm not a baby anymore. I'm seven- that's practically an adult."

"Oh of course," Hinata nods, mock serious. "Will you be handling the taxes then? Laundry? What's for dinner?"

"On second thought," she amends hastily, "I still have some growing left to do."

Hinata laughs, bopping her on the nose. "So where's Kozu?"

"Trying not to interrupt your lovely family time, that's where." Kenma steps out from the hallway, surveying the scene with a fond expression. "Welcome home Shouyou."

"My, my, don't I feel loved. Better watch out Kozume, you're getting all domestic."

"Shut up Shouyou."

Hinata and Natsu giggle conspiratorially. "Hear that Natsu?" Hinata whispers, loud enough for Kenma to hear. "I think he likes us."

"I'm going to leave."

"No!" Natsu objects immediately, startling the blonde boy. "Kozu you can't leave! Shou-Bro, do something!" She looks to her brother with seriousness only children can manage.

"Come on Ken, take a joke. Besides, you'll only have to come back in another two hours. Just chill here."

Kenma frowns, finding no fault in the other man's logic. Since Hinata has to leave for work at 6:30, Kenma comes over to watch Natsu for the hour between then and when she goes to bed. It had been easier when she had been going to bed earlier, but there is nothing they can do. Kenma is simply grateful he no longer has to deal with the midnight wailing sessions from her toddler years.

Kenma sighs, relenting. "I'll need to get my laptop."

"You can use mine."

"No, I have some stuff to do for work."

"Oh, then definitely don't do it on my laptop."

Natsu frowns. "Why can't Kozu use your laptop for work stuff?"

"Because I don't want the government to track my IP address after Kozu hacks into the NSA," Hinata says with a smile.

"Firstly, I wouldn't be so amateur as to leave a trail for them to follow back here. Secondly, please stop telling people that I'm some criminal hacker."

"I speak only the truth!"

Kenma rolls his eyes, whacking Hinata lightly on the arm. Forgoing putting on shoes, Kenma leaves to retrieve his laptop from next door.

Hinata addresses Natsu. "How about you and I get started on dinner? Hm?"

Natsu whoops in agreement, small arms pumping the air. Hinata adjusts the floundering girl on his hip, carrying her into the kitchen. He sets her down on the counter closest to the door. "What do you want to eat Carnation?"

"Spa-ghe-tti! Spa-ghe-tti!" She chants, pounding her fists on her legs.

Hinata starts pulling out ingredients, laughing. While he doesn't seem like someone who'd know how to cook, he's actually quite skilled at it. His father had taught him before he was even a preteen, insisting that _"it is the duty of every man, woman, and child to know how to create a masterful soufflé."_ A picture of him and a younger Hinata, both covered in flour, hangs on the wall. It had been their first attempt of baking together.

"Shou-Bro?"

He is pulled out of his reverie by Natsu's voice. She peers at him curiously, black-brown eyes wide with worry. Hinata grins, "What's up Cupcake?"

"Are you okay?" Her voice is hesitant, fearful almost.

Mentally, he kicks himself for making her worry. He smiles at her reassuringly, attempting to ease her concern. "Of course I am Sugarplum. Don't you worry."

She accepts his answer with a nod, ever the ingenuous younger sibling. Hinata wonders what he did to deserve such a trusting sister. Momentarily, he considers speaking further, thinking of what to say, how to convey everything he _needs_ to say- and there's most certainly a lot- to a _seven year old child_ , but then Kenma pushes open the door with a click, and the moment is lost.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asks, eyebrow raised. His gaze bores into Hinata, searching.

"Nope," Hinata says, returning his attention to dinner. "We're okay."

_They are._

oOo

"So I'm standing on his balcony, completely naked, and the lady is staring at me like I've just killed her child-"

"Or slept with her husband."

"Oh yeah, that." Hinata laughs, rolling his eyes at the other man. Tetsurou Kuroo merely huffs. His dark hair falls in his face, standing in every direction except the correct one. "It's as if she blamed me or something, which is completely absurd. Honestly, you'd think _I'd_ paid _her husband_ to sleep with _me_."

"Ha! Like anyone would even sleep with that man _willingly_." Koutarou Bokuto laughs loudly, taking a sip of his beer.

The three lounge against the bar, Hinata and Kuroo's loose fitting clothes pulled on over stage ones hastily, as they try to enjoy their last break of the night. It's a ritual of theirs, for all employees at The Raven really, to gather at the bar area on their break and complain about their shitty lives. Although the strippers, Hinata included, will sometimes use their dressing rooms for this same purpose, Kuroo will forever be a bar patron for a little less than an hour a night. There's a certain bartender he has to bother.

"Kuroo! Isn't your break over by now?"

He leans back, a Cheshire-like grin spread across his lips, as he addresses the scowling man behind the bar. "Nope. Sorry Daichi, but I have ten more minutes."

"I could always just cut your break."

That catches his attention. "What?! Oh come on babe don't be cruel. That's unfair treatment of employees."

Daichi Sawamura chuckles at the dramatic man. Broad shouldered, clean cut, with military looks and an attitude to match, some think that Daichi would be better suited as one of the club's bouncers. Of course the intimidating man has thrown many people out over the years, but that's beside the point. Daichi built this club from the ground up, offering a job to every lost soul who needed one. Perhaps that is why everyone here is so fiercely loyal to the man.

"Daichi come on, let him finish the story." Bokuto insists. "You have to learn to loosen up."

"I can't, Bokuto, or else no one here will ever do any work."

"We're on break," they say in unison.

Daichi groans. Sometimes he regrets ever hiring these three, no matter how talented they may be. Dealing with them is such a hassle. As one of the best bartenders on staff, he's entitled to the busiest shifts. Sadly for Daichi, the same goes for The Raven's best DJ, Bokuto. He might be able to handle the hyperactive man if he wasn't accompanied by Kuroo and Hinata, who both happen to work constantly.

Hinata pauses, suddenly thoughtful. "Do you even have scheduled breaks Bokuto?"

"My breaks happen whenever I decide to put in a pre-made mix," he shrugs. "I usually just take them whenever I see one of you guys or Akaashi over here."

"You aren't supposed to use breaks to fraternize with your boyfriends," Daichi chastises. He's flagged down by a woman nearby, and makes the drink with easy precision. You have to admire his aptitude for multi-tasking.

Kuroo steals Bokuto's beer. "Obviously I've been using them wrong."

He laughs boisterously, unbothered by the other's thievery, and continues his favorite pastime of bothering the bartender. "Daichi, you really need to get that stick out of your ass."

"Yeah _Dad_ -chi," Hinata teases.

Bokuto turns on the younger boy with a look of horror. "What?"

"You know, ‘cause he's like a dad?"

"Oh boy..." Kuroo snickers.

"Daichi!" Bokuto stands, finger pointed accusingly at the bartender. "You've stolen my precious son!"

He meets the other's furious gaze steadily. "What."

"Come on Daichi," Kuroo grins, attempting to subdue his laughter, "it's all part of your on-going battle over who Hinata's real father is."

"Why didn't I hear about this then?"

"Hush child," Kuroo says, patting Hinata's head lightly. "It's an adult matter."

"Only," Daichi deadpans, sliding the finished martini across the bar, "if you use the term 'adult' loosely."

"You shall not take my son!" Bokuto declares. He looks as though he's going to challenge Daichi to a duel. "I am the superior father!"

He snorts, cleaning off another glass. "Is that another one of your famous jokes?"

Hinata groans, head dropping against the obsidian bar. "Why me? Kuroo, you're the ridiculous one, shouldn't you be part of this argument?"

"I can't be their son."

"Why not?"

"I've slept with both of them." He considers it. "Though Daichi, if you want me to start calling you Da-"

"Enough!" Daichi slams the glass on the counter, effectively silencing them. Although it does nothing to wipe the shit-eating grins off of their faces. "For starters, we-" he motions between himself and Kuroo, hissing, "are no longer an item."

"Friends with benefits works too."

"No, just-" he pinches the bridge of his nose. " _No._ Furthermore, Bokuto, we aren't going to duel over who is Hinata's real father."

"Aww," he whines. "Why not?"

"Because neither of us _is_ Hinata's real father."

"Perhaps not in blood, but our spirits are bound..in..." He trails off, eyes straying to Hinata. The younger boy seems to have stopped listening to their conversation, lost in thought. His amber eyes gaze blankly ahead. "Hinata?"

He snaps to attention so fast, Bokuto gets a feeling of whiplash. "Yes?"

"Um. Nothing." Snatching the bottle back from Kuroo's grasp, he downs the rest of it. "Alright, my break is just about over. I'll see you guys later."

"Brooo," Kuroo groans, "don't leave me."

"Sorry, these people need my awesome musical skills." He wraps his arms around the other male's shoulders, pulling him into his chest. With an exaggerated "Mwah!" Bokuto plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Ducking away as Kuroo slaps at his shoulder, he salutes Daichi before turning on his heel and diving into the mob of bodies that make up the dance floor.

Kuroo stares after him. Daichi examines the taller male critically. "Shouldn't you be getting back to work as well Kuroo?"

"Sorry Bossman, I still have five minutes."

"About those five minutes," he hums, smirking, "don't you still need to change before your break is over?"

"Oh don't be-"

"Ah-ah," he holds up a finger, silencing him. "Boss's orders."

"Dick." Kuroo hops off his bar stool, flipping Daichi off with a black-painted nail.

The bartender watches him go with a grin before returning his attention to Hinata. "So how's your little sister?"

"She's fine. A constant pain in my neck, of course, but fine."

"And you?"

"What about me?" He traces lazy patterns on the polished wood, feigning ignorance.

"You look..." _lost depressed lonely angry anxious hateful broken_ "tired." He finishes lamely.

Hinata grins, and Daichi wonders how this boy became so masterful at lying. "I'm alright Daichi, I was just out a little late."

His eyes narrow. "Doing what?"

"Grocery shopping."

"Hinata..."

"No joke, I'm that one person in the store at 4 am." Daichi scowls, disbelieving. There's a pang in Hinata's chest. He knows what Daichi is assuming, and resentment boils in his chest. "Oh, but right before that," he says sarcastically, "I sold myself on the streets to a sleazy rich guy."

"That's not what I meant-"

_"It's exactly what you meant!"_ The woman next to him startles, fumbling her drink. She waves away Daichi's nod of apology, her eyes darting to the aggravated boy nervously. Hinata inhales deeply, calming himself. When he speaks again, his voice has lost its edge. "You don't have to worry about me Daichi, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"I just don't want you to do anything you'll regret."

"What? Prostitute myself?" He snorts at Daichi's pained expression. "I'm not that desperate for money."

He sighs. "It should be about you having more self-respect than that."

"Self-respect?" His laugh is bitter. "I got rid of that a long time ago."

"Hinata." Daichi leans forward, resting his hands against the tabletop. Reluctantly, the younger male meets his gaze. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm just tired."

"Maybe you should take a day off."

"No way in hell." His tone is absolute. "I may not be desperate, but I still need the money."

"Overworking yourself isn't the answer."

"Tell me when you find a different one." Frowning, he checks the time. "I have to go get changed. I'm on stage in ten, and we can't all wait until the last second like Kuroo."

"You just," he hesitates. "Take care of yourself, okay Shouyou?"

"Sure thing _Dad_." He laughs and saunters away, parting bodies as he vanishes within the crowd.

_‘You’re lying,’_ Daichi thinks, but then a customer demands his attention, and he pushes aside his worry in favor of doing his job. 

He'll wish that he hadn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hello again! First of all thank you so much to all of you who commented on the first chapter, I'm glad to have received such positive support! I had meant to post this earlier, but I had some difficulty writing it. This chapter is for introducing Hinata and some of the crew at The Raven, so there's not a whole lot going on here plot-wise. However! Important characters were introduced, and I did hint to several important things later on. Now, on to a few important notes.  
> -This chapter title is "Music People" by IAMX  
> -If you hadn't noticed, I am writing their names in the English format (first name, last name) instead of the Japanese format. (last name, first name) I just figured I'd make that clear.  
> -The endgame ship for this is Kagehina, I repeat it is Kagehina. That doesn't mean there's not some pining from other people.  
> -Yes, Bokuto and Akaashi are already a couple here. About Kuroo's comment about having slept with Bokuto- the two of them have a _long_ history together that you'll learn a bit more about in later chapters. As their past is revealed it'll also explain more about their relationship.  
>  -So some of you may be wondering why Daichi bartends if he owns the bar, which is a valid question. While he handles all the tasks of an owner and The Raven is his business, it was originally sponsored by another party. (Can you guess who?) So the actual ownership of the club is a little complicated, which is part of the reason Daichi also works as a bartender. The other reason is so he can keep an eye on his employees and the scene on the floor,  
> -Also Hinata has about a thousand different nicknames for Natsu, and while I'll try not to repeat them often, there will be a few reoccurring ones. I just love the idea of him having a hundred nicknames for her, so that's why there are so many of them.  
> The next chapter will be back to Kageyama! I will try to get it up as soon as I can! Thank you so much for reading, and please comment, kudo, or simply follow the story if you'd like to see what our idiots will get up to next! I have a lot planned so stay tuned!


	3. Oh No

This is getting ridiculous.

Sitting cross legged in his living room, his hands rest on his knees in the classic meditation style. Twenty, maybe thirty sketches he had done of the dancer Apollo litter the floor around him. Elegant drawings, perfectly imitating the dancer's fluid motions across the stage. They are neat, precise, and gorgeous.

Kageyama considers, for the millionth time, destroying all of them.

The drawings are wonderfully done. Technique-wise, none can compete. However, they are missing that spark of life, a certain hint of vitality, that is necessary for them to be considered masterpieces. Such lifeless pieces can't rouse him from his creative slump. These, while artfully crafted, are worthless.

He remains uninspired.

So, making a noise of aggravation that resembles a dying bird, Kageyama submits to his earlier impulse and begins tearing the paper into confetti.

"Don't be so violent Tobio-chan."

"Fuck off."

He continues his actions until several of the portraits are reduced to shreds. He even goes so far as to stand up, crumpling the torn pieces into a ball and hurling it across the room. Breathing heavily, he clenches and unclenches his fists repeatedly.

"You good?" Oikawa lays sprawled over the couch, legs dangling over the sides. The older male has his head half turned toward Kageyama, one eyebrow raised.

He scowls. "No."

"Well then I'm glad you're spending your time so productively." He snuggles into the knit blanket, pulling it up to his chin. "So why are you throwing a tantrum?"

"I'm not throwing a tantrum."

"Bitch-fit, whatever. Now come tell Uncle Tooru what's wrong."

"Like hell I will." He stomps over to the kitchen, ignoring Oikawa's affronted noise. Slamming down glasses and bottles, he attempts to convey his aggravation through the loud manner in which he pours himself a drink. He knows that he's being bratty, but the entire situation has him on edge. Still, it is no reason to be rude. He should probably apologize.

"If you plan on drinking out your feelings, milk won't be very effective."

On second thought, nevermind.

The shot glass hits the counter with a bang. "I didn't ask for your opinion Tooru."

"It comes free of charge."

"I still need compensation for the emotional pain."

Oikawa laughs. "Alright, but seriously, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"That's certainly what you _should_ be saying. I mean, look at these things." He snatches a pile of sketches from the ground and begins to shuffle through them. "They're absolutely brilliant."

"They're _decent_ ," he objects. "It doesn't even matter though, because they're _pencil drawn portraits_ and the assignment is an _original series of paintings_."

"So what are you doing for the actual assignment?"

He drops his head against the granite with a groan. "I don't fucking know."

"Aww, Tobio..." Rolling off the couch, Oikawa hops to his feet. He shuffles over to the kitchen, wrapped inside the blanket, and, unable to move his arms, nudges the younger male with his entire body in some strange attempt at comfort. "There, there."

"Get off of me." He can't muster the energy to push Oikawa away.

Shushing Kageyama, he drapes his torso over him. "Let my aura calm you."

He squirms for a bit, but eventually resorts to slapping futilely at the 160 pounds of man-giant on top of him.

"What...did I just walk in on?" A voice calls as the door slides open and shut loudly.

Oikawa and Kageyama swivel their heads in synch towards the doorway where one Koushi Sugawara stands with a lost and slightly amused expression. Tilting his head slightly, a small smile graces his angelic face. He laughs softly, taking in their odd position (Oikawa wrapped like a blanket burrito and smothering Kageyama over the countertop) with a raised brow.

"Suga!" Kageyama calls. "Get him off me!"

"Tooru, get off of Kageyama."

"Way to force your problems on mom," Oikawa grumbles, but complies nonetheless.

Suga chuckles brightly, hiding his smile behind his pastel blue scarf. "It's part of my job though."

"Does your job also include bringing food?"

"I always provide," he says, lifting a plastic bag with a smiley face logo. He sets the takeout before the other two. Supposedly, the three of them are supposed to take turns buying food, but since Kageyama constantly forgets to feed himself, much less others, and Oikawa tends to only buy milk bread and instant noodles, the task falls to Suga. It isn't as if he has to cook or anything- or _can_ cook for that matter. In the Oikawa/Sugawara/Kageyama household, anything involving cooking holds a large red animated question mark over it. In the many years they've lived here, the stove has never been used. The microwave, however, sees daily action.

Oikawa struggles to free his arms from their confines. "Gah! Tobio help! I'm trapped in this blanket cocoon!"

"Great," he deadpans, unloading cartoons of noodles and various other dishes, "then I'll just eat your share."

The noise he makes is something between a squawk and a screech. Horrified at the possibility of losing his food, Oikawa launches himself at the younger boy. Kageyama is frozen in panic as a ball of color is now launching towards him at _maximum velocity._

Their fall is softened by the blankets surrounding Oikawa. The brunette attempts to further his attack against Kageyama, but without the use of his appendages, is left squirming around on the floor. His movements closely resemble "the worm."

Suga finds the entire situation far more amusing than the two males on the ground. "Tooru," he gasps out, "what are you _doing?_ "

"Defending my honor! And my lo mein!" Kageyama throws him off with a well-placed push. Heaving himself to his feet, he ignores Suga's giggling and Oikawa's yelling. "Wait, no, I can't- Mom! Help!"

With a chuckle, Suga goes over to assist Oikawa. Kageyama stabs a pair of chopsticks into his fried rice, watching as the ash blonde attempts to unravel the other from his confines. After excessive yanking, pulling, laughing (from Suga) and whining (from Oikawa) he is freed. Kageyama congratulates them with a round of slow applause.

"And a lot of help you were Tobio-chan," Oikawa huffs. He now wears the blanket as a cape.

"May I remind you who _tackled me_ to the _ground?_ "

"Speaking of which," Suga interrupts, stealing an egg roll, "how exactly did we regress to violent altercations?"

You can practically see the dark aura that immediately surrounds Kageyama. He slouches his shoulders, eating his rice grumpily. "No reason."

Suga raises a disbelieving eyebrow.

"He has no inspiration," Oikawa explains. "So now he doesn't know what to do for his final project for his dumb class."

"But I thought you were full of creative juices or whatever after you went to that club."

"It's called The Raven, Suga." Oikawa corrects, rolling his eyes.

"Right, Right." He points his chopsticks at the ravenette. "So weren't you all inspired by that dancer guy? Shouldn't you have tons of ideas?"

"I thought I had an idea, but now..." he sighs. “I got nothing."

"It's alright Tobio-chan, that's why your friends are here for you," Oikawa comforts.

He scowls. "I don't do friends."

"Then what exactly are we?"

"You're," he says, glaring at Oikawa, "the annoying jackass who I was tricked into living with when I was merely a poor college student-"

"You're still a college student Tobio-chan, just no longer impoverished."

"-and Suga is my mom." He finishes, disregarding him.

"I also didn't trick you into anything."

"Trickery was most certainly involved."

There actually wasn't any trickery involved per se, though there were copious amounts of liquor. Sometime before the end of Kageyama's first year of college, when he and Oikawa had already known each other for a while, he had made the mistake of agreeing to attend one of Oikawa's parties. In a drunken haze, Kageyama had admitted to the older male that he was looking for an apartment. Oikawa had gotten strangely excited and insisted that Kageyama live with him and his roommate, saying that "you can be the Phoebe to my Rachel and Suga's Monica!" He had then proceeded to grab the others face, pressing their noses together and exclaiming, " _We will be Friends._ "

That very night, the two of them had stumbled to Kageyama's dorm, packed most of his things, and brought everything back to the apartment in a small red wagon. (Neither remembers where or when they acquired the wagon. They still have it though.) Suga had been extremely confused when he returned the next morning, but he took everything rather well. Although Kageyama had insisted that their agreement was invalid because he was completely wasted when it had been made, he also never moved out of the apartment. Thus, he now lives with the asshole he calls a friend, and Suga.

"So if you don't 'do friends,' what does that make Tsukishima?" Suga asks contemplatively.

"He's just a total dick."

"And Yamaguchi?"

"Out of his league."

Oikawa snorts.

"So this Apollo guy inspired you before, yes?"

Kageyama makes an affirmative noise around his mouthful of food.

"Well then why can't you just go see him again?"

"Oh yeah," Oikawa agrees. He's tapping away at his phone, probably posting a status update. "You could have him model for you like I did. Though you may have to pay him extra."

He's torn between laughing and seriously considering the suggestion. "You honestly think I could convince him to model for me?"

"I mean, you just need him for inspiration right? He'll barely have to do anything except, I don't know, 'be inspiring,'" he makes air quotes with two fingers, "and hang out. It sounds like a pretty good deal to me."

He contemplates Oikawa's words. It isn't the worst idea he's ever had. Plus, it might be exactly what he needs to get inspired.

"Right, then I'll scour the city, everywhere I have to!" Kageyama declares. "I won't rest until I find him again!"

"Or," Oikawa interjects, not bothering to look up from his phone, "you could always just go back to the club. I mean, he does work there."

"Oh, right." He drops his dramatic pose. "So when's the next time you're going to The Raven?"

"Ohoho," Oikawa laughs, "you think I'm coming with you?"

"Are you not?"

Exaggeratedly, he takes a bite of his noodles. "Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because this is the perfect opportunity for you to practice your social skills!"

"You're just mad because I threatened to steal your food."

"I will neither confirm nor deny that."

"You're so petty."

"It takes one to know one."

Kageyama ignores the comment. "So how the hell am I supposed to get in?"

"Well you could pay, like a normal person." Suga chimes in.

"And you think Apollo will be totally cool with a random guy wanting to talk to him?"

"Just don't say 'I have a job for you.' That sounds super shady."

"Hush, Tooru. Kageyama is pouting."

"Also don't wear sunglasses! You look like a thug when you wear those. Though why you'd want to wear those at night is beyond me."

"Tooru, please."

"I mean seriously, what year do you think this is?"

" _Tooru_ ," Kageyama's words are muffled from behind his hands. "I will rip out your kidneys through your anus."

"Kinky."

Before Kageyama can move, Suga slaps Oikawa on the back of the head. The ash blonde ignores his indignant cry and returns his attention to the young artist. "Kageyama, it'll be fine. I'm sure if you just explain the situation to him, he'll be totally willing to work as your model."

"You think?"

He smiles. "Of course, Tobio. It'll be fine."

Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! Sorry this chapter is a little late, but life was sort of kicking my ass. I am here now, and I've returned with Kageyama! I'll finish this up with a few notes.  
> -The chapter title is "Oh No" by Marina and the Diamonds.  
> -Kageyama, Suga, and Oikawa _are_ roommates, if that wasn't totally clear.  
>  -None of them know how to cook. I know a lot of you may be like "but Sugamama is a total housewife!" While that's all well and good, it isn't fit for this story.  
> -I am so tempted to write out that entire party scene during which Kageyama and Oikawa somehow ended up as roommates. Perhaps a spin off series about Kageyama's earlier college years will have to be created. (much later though.)  
> -I envision their apartment to look like Felix's from Orphan Black. I'll have some actual description of it later, but I honestly always picture Felix's loft every time I think of the Oikawa/Kageyama/Sugawara house.  
> Next chapter will feature Kageyama being awkward at the club, Hinata being really confused by the entire situation, and the introduction of more of The Raven family. I'll try to get it out as fast as I can, so stay tuned! Lots of love!


	4. When the Day...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I apologize that this is a day late, but it is also a DOUBLE CHAPTER UPDATE. HELL YEAHHHHHHHH. These two chapters are connected, and both switch between Hinata and Kageyama's perspective's. That is something that won't happen regularly, but was necessary for these chapters.

"Big bro?"

Hinata startles, fumbling his hairbrush. He turns to see Natsu standing in the bathroom doorway, watching him with wide eyes. "What's up Carrot Top?"

"Are you doing your makeup?"

"No, I was gonna do it at work."

"Oh..." her shoulders slump dejectedly, but she perks up again almost immediately. "Can you do it here?"

Hinata suppresses the urge to roll his eyes at his little sister's antics. She has a strange fascination with his stage makeup, and always tries to convince him to apply it at home so that she can watch. While Hinata prefers applying it at the club (so he doesn't have to walk through his apartment complex in full makeup) sometimes he can't help but submit to the younger girl's wishes.

"Get over here," he sighs.

Flashing him a blinding grin, she bounds over, sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

He is dimly aware of her brown-black eyes intensely focused on him as he dusts a thin layer of golden powder over his eyelids. With a practiced hand, he lines his eyes with a mocha color. "So what are you doing in school tomorrow Angelfish?"

"I'm not sure. We were going over telling time, but I already know how to do that, so that was pretty cool."

"That's because you're super smart."

There's a pause before she speaks again. "Shou-bro?"

"Hm?" His attention remains focused on his reflection as he spreads on a layer of clear lip gloss.

"Parents' Evening is coming up at school."

That catches his attention. He pauses in his actions, turning to look at Natsu. "Really? When is it?"

"This Thursday."

"I can make that, no problem." Examining himself in the mirror, he checks his makeup. It's not much, but it emphasizes the orange haired boy's best features without the tackiness of drag queen level cosmetics. "How do I look?" he asks with a smile.

She returns the expression. "Super pretty."

"Not as pretty as you Cookie!"

Her delighted squeal echoes as he lifts her above his head, spinning her around. He pulls her to his chest, holding her with one arm and using the other to tickle her incessantly. "Stop it! Stop!" She cries, laughing hysterically.

Ceasing his attack, he reverts to simply bouncing the small girl on his hip, both of them giggling. "Alright, alright," he calms down. "I have to go to work now."

"What?" She pouts, "Can’t you stay a little later?"

"Sorry Lovebug, but I got things to do."

"Can you at least read me a bedtime story?"

"But you aren't going to bed for another hour! Why don't you just get Kozu to read you one when he comes over?"

Her eyes are downcast. "But I wanted you to read me one, like we used to."

Well dammit. He's not sure if Natsu is devious enough to consciously attempt to guilt trip him, but he can't help as the feeling overwhelms him. Although he is eternally grateful that he can spend most of his days with her, he wishes he could still do the little things like tucking her into bed at night or reading her bedtime stories. He remembers when Natsu was younger and he could do those things, back when the only time he had to trouble Kenma was to ask him to spend the night with her while he was working. Even then she would still wake up in the middle of the night. Hinata wasn't sure how many frantic calls he had gotten from the older boy at 2am as he desperately tried to calm the crying child, pleading with Hinata over the phone, saying _"what the hell am I supposed to do?"_ The memory would almost be fond, just the sheer ridiculousness of it all, if it weren't laced with the knowledge that he hadn't been there for his baby sister.

He's trying.

And yet, the regret weighs on him.

It's that regret which eventually convinces him. "Alright Snowflake, but just one story."

She cheers excitedly, waving her arms as he carries her off. They make their way down the hallway, Hinata trying to stop the excitable girl from knocking pictures off of the wall. Her bedroom is directly across from his, the walls each painted a different, obnoxious color (pink, green, blue, and violet) and covered with different posters or shelves filled with different toys. The combination of it all almost hurts his eyes, but Natsu likes it, so he can't complain.

"Right-o," he grunts, dropping her onto the sunflower bedspread. He helps her under the covers and adjusts himself so that he's propped up beside her, back against the headboard. "What story do you want?"

Her brow furrows as she considers the question. "Make one up!"

"Make one up? About what?" Settling onto the bed, he puts an arm around the small girl. Her weight settles into his side as she snuggles against him.

"A love story, like a fairytale." She contemplates it further. "And there has to be an owl and a pirate and a princess!"

"So then a love story about a pirate queen who falls in love with a princess who has a pet magic owl?"

"Perfect!"

They both laugh. "Alrighty then. Once upon a time..."

oOo

"You aren't actually planning to wear that, are you?"

Not even five steps out of his room and he's already getting this shit.

Kageyama freezes on his way through the TV room, turning to face the speaker. Oikawa is, once again, lounging across the couch, though tonight he is not cocooned inside a blanket. He's dressed fashionably, quite common for him, in turquoise skinny jeans and a matching vest, currently unbuttoned, that are paired with a black button up and a white tie. He probably just came back from a photoshoot. It's not unusual for him to collapse on the couch after those.

"What's wrong with my outfit?" He actually thought that he looked decent in this sweater. He says as much.

" _Tobio-chan,_ " Oikawa groans, "You're going to a _club_. You can't wear a _sweater_ to a _club_."

"Well what am I supposed to wear then?"

He throws his legs over the side of the couch, stretching. "Go get every article of clothing I've ever bought you or picked out for you and bring them to my room."

"Seriously?"

He shoos him away. "Hop to it." He says in a tone that would have been unbearably patronizing if the younger male hadn't grown accustomed to it. He wonders, briefly, if this constitutes as some secondary branch of Stockholm syndrome.

Rolling his eyes, Kageyama complies. He crosses back to his door, entering his bedroom. He eyes the mess of art supplies that litters his floor warily. Sidestepping paints and canvases, making sure not to damage anything, he makes his way to the single dresser shoved into the corner of the room. His bed is treated in a similar manner, pushed against a wall, and currently littered with half-finished paintings and sketchbooks.

He has a drawer dedicated to all the clothes Oikawa has bought him, (all of them have been worn once or never) so he simply empties that into his arms. His journey back to the door is precarious, but he eventually makes it without, miraculously, dropping any clothing.

Oikawa's room is a little unconventional. Off of the main level is a raised platform, which is connected to what is supposed to be a bedroom. However Oikawa decided that the room's closet was "offensively small" and "could never contain his extensive wardrobe." (He wasn't wrong) So he decided to transform the entire room into a walk in closet.

The perfect solution.

He quickly claimed the platform as his own, although it only really serves as a space for his bed. That's where Kageyama goes to deal with the inevitable hell that will be receiving Oikawa's fashion advice. Knowing this, he ascends the three stairs to the platform quickly and pushes past the strings of beads hanging from the ceiling.

"Good evening, Tobio-chan." Oikawa has sprawled himself over the bed spread, draping himself in a manner that is supposed to be seductive. The shit-eating grin on his face subtracts from the effect. "Nice of you to join me this evening."

"Mother of..." Unable to move his hands, he settles for burying his face into his pile of clothes. "Tooru, if you're going to subject me to your ridiculous antics, at least allow me use of my hands."

"Why do you need that?"

"To shoot myself."

"Not me?"

"I'm feeling charitable," he says dryly.

Oikawa laughs brightly, rolling off the bed as he does so. His bare feet slap against the dark wooden floor and raises his arms as though he just performed some great gymnastic feat. Kageyama glares at him, unimpressed.

"Oh don't be a dick," Oikawa scolds, but his voice holds no real malice. "Come on, follow me into my lair." He motions to Kageyama with one finger, and disappears behind another screen of beads. Sighing, and with full knowledge that he will regret this, Kageyama follows him.

Oikawa's closet is no joke. It left a reporter doing an in-home feature speechless when she saw it. They would've had to remove her four minutes of awed silence from the cut if not for Oikawa's great camera skills and amiable chatter while she stared on. Kageyama had actually been there during that interview, purely for publicity reasons. He had planned to be out of the apartment during it, but Suga had convinced him that being on TV would be a great way to promote his artwork. It was, even if he had hated every moment of it. Honestly, the advertising Oikawa does for him is invaluable. Kageyama knows that without him, especially early on, he probably wouldn't be where he is today. He certainly wouldn't be able to manage his stores on social media.

"Are you going to stand there all day," Oikawa interrupts his reverie, "or get the hell in here?"

Choosing not to dignify that with a response, he steps inside the closet. The walls are lined with rows upon rows of clothes, all neatly separated into sections. T-shirts hang off to the left, arranged by color, next to sweaters, next to jackets, and so on and so on around the room. Some would consider it obsessive. Kageyama is among this group.

"You can put the clothes down there." He gestures vaguely to the ottoman in the center of the room, already rifling through the racks of clothes.

Kageyama does so, sitting down next to the large pile. "Why are you searching through your clothes?"

"Because I didn't realize how little I'd expanded your wardrobe! Honestly Tobio-chan, have you ever heard of variety?"

His groan echoes as he flops back onto the cushions.

This is going to be a long night.

oOo

Hinata sinks into the beanbag with a sigh, heels kicked out in front of him. It hasn't been a particularly difficult night, just an annoying one. The usual couple of customers getting too handsy, the usual couple of creepers being creepy- same shit as usual. Honestly, if one more guy tries to grab his dick while he is on stage, Hinata is going to flip his shit. Or Tanaka will. It depends on if the bouncer got there first.

"You alright Hinata?"

Keiji Akaashi perches lightly on his seat, face illuminated by the lights of his Hollywood-style vanity mirror. His ankles are crossed, stilettos hanging off of his toes, and his knees bounce the novel on his lap. Hinata is always taken aback by the other's beauty, especially when his eyes are shadowed in smoky scarlet and his dark hair frames his sharply angled face in loose, elegant curls. He wears more makeup than the rest of the dancers, simply because he wants to, but always manages to look stylish and lovely where anyone else would just look tacky.

It is _so_ unfair.

"Yeah," he sighs, "I'm fine. Just tired."

The edges of his lips curve downwards. Kicking the red heels off completely, he hops off the chair and pads over to Hinata, sitting next to him. His elbow sinks into the beanbag as he rests his cheek on his hand, facing the younger boy. "Customers being assholes again?"

"Aren't they always?"

Akaashi answers his grin with a soft smile.

"Oh my god," Hinata exclaims, in sudden realization. "Bokuto wins."

" _Pardon?_ "

"The epic dad competition between him and Daichi?" His arms move wildly as he speaks.

"Oh god," he rolls his eyes, "not that. Bokuto hasn't shut up about that for weeks. How do you even compete to be the better father? Determine who's better at playing catch?"

"I'm not exactly sure, but since you're mom, then that definitely gives Bokuto an edge."

A dark eyebrow arches elegantly. "Since when am I mom?"

"Please," he scoffs, "you are so this place's mom."

It is funny, really, how quickly Akaashi became the 'mom' of The Raven. He has only worked here for two years, and yet he has already been mothering most of the staff. Hinata has actually been working here longer than him.

"Does this mean I have to start dressing matronly?"

Hinata snorts. "Please, all you wear outside of work are sweatpants and oversized sweaters."

"Are you doubting my fashion sense?"

"I'm denying that you have any."

Akaashi shoves playfully at his shoulder, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. The expression morphs into one of startled fear as Hinata retaliates, jabbing at his sides with precise fingers. He really should be more prepared for these things by now.

That's how Kuroo finds them, a giggling mess atop the plush seat. "Well," he says, strutting in with a laugh. "This is certainly a compromising position."

Akaashi stills at the sound of his voice.

"Like you're one to talk." Hinata drapes his legs over Akaashi's lap, watching as Kuroo crosses over to his makeup table. "Weren't you talking about being caught having sex with some guy by his wife just the other night?"

"Yeah, but that was hilarious."

"I think this can be considered pretty hilarious."

He rifles through his makeup bag (it has a cat on it, Bokuto gave it to him as a gift) frowning. "Yo Hinata, do you got any extra black eyeliner? I think I left mine at home."

"I only have brown, but Akaashi has some."

The silence that follows is deafening.

Kuroo turns slowly, leaning against the table lightly. His eyes are dark pinpoints of single-focused intensity as he observes the younger male carefully. Akaashi won't meet his eyes.

"If you want," he says lightly, "you can borrow it."

The corners of Kuroo's mouth twitch upwards. "Thanks."

Tension dissipating, Hinata heaves a sigh of relief. It's always awkward when those two are forced to interact, almost unbearably so. It was sad, given how hard Bokuto tries to help them get along. They probably never will, given their history.

"Are you on again soon?"

"Yeah I got-"

A knock sounds on the door, interrupting him. "You guys decent?" The loud voice echoes.

Kuroo yells back. "Never!"

Ryuunosuke Tanaka pushes the door open, laughing boisterously. "Well then put a towel over it. I don't need to see your junk."

"You wish you could see all this," Kuroo waggles his eyebrows suggestively, running a hand down his bare chest.

A cough sounds from behind the tattooed bouncer, garnering the attention of the four males. A lanky male stands awkwardly in the doorway, running a hand through his shaggy ebony hair. He's handsome, in an artsy sort of way. Dark hair and sea-blue eyes are paired with pale skin. He's even dressed nice, in dark jeans, a blue scarf, and a leather jacket.

"Oh yeah," Tanaka motions to the blue eyed male, "Apollo, this guy was looking for you."

Kuroo and Akaashi both straighten.

Eyeing the taller male, Hinata pushes himself to his feet. "Really now? And who," he crosses over to him standing until they're almost chest to chest, "are you?"

"I'm-um," he gulps, staring at him wide eyed. He observes Hinata with a look of awed and mildly panicked disbelief. "Hi." Hinata flinches when he shoves his hand forward. "My name is Tobio Kageyama," his words are a rush, "I'm here to offer you a job."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'll only have a few notes here because there is still the next chapter to read.  
> -Kenma really has been there for Hinata for a very long time. Their entire history will be explained eventually.  
> -Also Hinata will forever defy the social norm by telling Natsu stories about lesbian princesses. He doesn't want her to think that 'straight' is the only way to be.  
> -The same thing applies to Akaashi and Kuroo's history. I'll give you a hint, Bokuto is involved. (This is where the spin-off may originate)  
> -Hinata has worked at The Raven for a little over three years. Akaashi has worked there for about 2.  
> -Yes Akaashi wears huge sweaters all the time he also wears fuzzy socks with owl motifs you can fight me on this.  
> Go read the next chapter! I love you guys!


	5. ...Met the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a DOUBLE CHAPTER UPDATE! So if you haven't read the chapter before this one, then go do that now!

Kageyama shifts from foot to foot, rubbing his neck awkwardly. The bouncer blocking the backstage doorway wears an unsettling smile, all shark-like teeth and shadowed eyes. He's shorter than him by a little more than an inch, but his arms are covered in more tattoos than he can count, and his head is shaved. In short, he's the stereotypical intimidating bouncer.

Kageyama is feeling fairly intimidated.

" _So,_ " the bouncer says, drawing out the word. "Tell me again why you're here."

"I'm uh-" he coughs, fidgeting under the weight of his stare, "I'm here to see the dancer Apollo."

_Don't panic don't panic don't panic._

"And what business do you have with our dancer?"

"I want to offer him a job."

He mentally face palms. God that sounds so shady. Oikawa warned him about sounding like a creeper and now here he is, fucking it up.

His expression is suspicious. "What _kind_ of job?"

"Nothing bad!" He assures him quickly. "It's just modeling! I'm an artist and I want to use him as inspiration for a new series of mine. So I was hoping that I could ask him to model for..me..."

The ensuing silence seems to drag on for ages. Kageyama is tempted to speak again, just to end it, but knows that he will begin rambling again.

"How old are you kid?"

Startled, he stutters, "t-twenty-two."

The bouncer studies him for another long moment before shaking his head, "alright. Come on."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, but you aren't allowed backstage alone. I don't trust you that much," he chuckles. "Tell you this though, if I get even the slightest sense that you have anything but the purest intentions towards our ray of sunshine, I'll kill you myself."

His smile is all sharp lines and hard edges. Underneath the lump of cold dread that has settled in his chest, Kageyama can feel the tell-tale tingling in his fingertips. This guy would be great material.

"Of course," he says instead.

Fading to something softer, he slaps his back good-naturedly. "Glad we understand each other. Follow me then."

He kicks open the heavy door, waving a hand for Kageyama to follow. They enter a dark hallway, lit by neon images of dancing bodies, spaced down the length of the walls. Black doors fit between them. The low hum of music, different from that of the main dance floor, drifts from inside.

"Private shows," the bouncer explains, motioning to one of the doors. Kageyama quickly averts his gaze.

At the end of the hall is an obsidian door with large silver letters declaring 'PRIVATE- EMPLOYEES ONLY.'

The bouncer knocks, shouting, "you guys decent?"

"Never!" A voice calls from within.

He simply laughs and pushes open the door. "Well then put a towel over it. I don't need to see your junk."

Kageyama trails after the bouncer into the room. It's different from the rest of the club, startlingly so. The walls are painted a light orange, and the room is lit cheerfully. One side is lined with Hollywood style vanity mirrors, while the opposite is a mess of vintage sofas and multi-colored beanbag chairs.

A man with mused ebony hair and cat-like eyes leans against one the of makeup tables. "You wish you could see all this," he smirks, running a hand down his bare chest suggestively.

It startles a laugh out of him, which Kageyama quickly covers up with a cough. He freezes as four pairs of eyes turn to face him.

"Oh yeah," the bouncer gestures to him, "Apollo, this guy was looking for you."

"Really now?"

Oh fuck.

The voice is melodious, touched with a curious lilt. His pale skin glitters under the lights, and his amber eyes shine, eloquent and ardent. A mess of hair like orange fire frames his features. He rises slowly from his seat, displaying himself fully. A silk red robe hangs loosely on his lithe frame, slipping off of one shoulder to showcase prominent collarbones. Strutting over, he surveys Kageyama lazily.

"And who," he looks up at him through thick lashes. Even in heels, the dancer is several inches shorter. "Are you?"

Apollo is standing barely a hair's width away from him, and Kageyama can't remember how to form a coherent sentence.

"I'm-um," he gulps, staring wide eyed at the dancer. He observes Apollo with a look of awed and mildly panicked disbelief. "Hi," he shoves a hand forward, rushing his words. "My name is Tobio Kageyama. I'm here to offer you a job."

Kageyama has the urge to hit himself.

God why can't he do anything right.

oOo

Hinata gapes. "Wait, _you're_ Tobio Kageyama?"

"You know this guy?" Kuroo eyes the male with an even mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"Do you not?" His grin practically splits his face. "He's a young artist that showed up a couple years ago." He turns to the confused male, "I love your art. I follow you on Instagram and on your website. I actually own some of your work."

A few years ago, Hinata had stumbled across the odd art blog. The artist was a supremely gifted college student who had started selling his artwork through his blog. Apparently he was sponsored by a popular YouTuber. His blog had been a huge hit, and he had thousands of Instagram followers. In the art community, he was pretty well known. Kenma had gotten Hinata one of his pieces as a gift after he had gushed about it for weeks. Although the older boy didn't totally understand the art's appeal, he could appreciate how much Hinata enjoyed it.

"You do?" His voice is barely above a whisper. The expression of shock on his face is adorable.

Hinata can't help but laugh. "Of course. You really are amazing! I mean, you're only my age, but you're still so talented." Pausing, he taps his chin lightly. "Though why in the world are you looking for me?"

"I-uh-" he clears his throat. "I want to offer you a job as a model."

"A model? Me?" The idea is ludicrous.

"I saw one of your shows," he explains. "I was uninspired for weeks before I saw you, and now I am again. I was hoping that having you as my model would help me out."

"I inspired you?" Suddenly bashful, he tucks a strand of orange hair behind his ear. He feels so overwhelmingly flattered that he's unsure how to respond.

Akaashi speaks up. "What exactly would he have to do?" His glare drills into the artist.

"I'm curious about that as well. What will he have to do? Nude modeling?" Kuroo's teasing smile doesn't reach his eyes.

His face burns red. "N-No, of course not! Nothing like that! I just want him to pose for a few paintings."

"In the nude."

"No!"

"Kuroo it's fine," Hinata admonishes, waving a dismissive hand. "I can take care of myself. If he turns out to be a creep then I'll kick his ass."

"I'm still here."

He faces Kageyama with a smile. "It'd be awesome to work with you."

"Great, so when can we-"

There's a banging on the door, causing all of them to jump. "Five minutes for Apollo!"

Huffing, Hinata rolls his eyes. "Sorry about that. What were you saying?"

"Oh, um," he returns his attention to Hinata, "right. We can discuss the details about this later if you're busy."

"Totally! Here," snatching an eyeliner pen off of a nearby makeup table, Hinata grabs his hand. Kageyama's expression grows increasingly alarmed as the dancer scribbles numbers down on his palm. "Text me whenever. Although you should know that if you try when I'm at work, I probably won't answer immediately."

"That's fine," he examines the looping black lines covering his hand. "But shouldn't you have written this with something a little more...permanent?"

Hinata scoffs. "You've obviously never worn makeup before. Just message me when you get the chance and we'll set something up. Okay?"

Kageyama nods.

"Apollo! Two minutes!"

"I heard you!" Hinata yells back through the door. God they can be so pushy. "It looks like I have to jet, but I'll hear from you soon, yeah?"

"Of course," he answers quickly.

"Great! Then it was super awesome to meet you Kageyama." Leaning upwards, he presses a quick kiss to the other boy's cheek. "See ya!" He leaves with a grin and a wave, heels clicking on the obsidian floor as dark blue eyes trail after him.

oOo

That...went surprisingly well.

He stands outside the club, the brick digging into his back. The pain is barely an echo in his mind. His attention remains focused solely on the looping black numbers covering his palm.

He should probably put the number into his phone.

Unzipping his jacket pocket, he pulls the device out and adds in his number. _'I don't know his real name,'_ Kageyama realizes, thumb hovering over the name section. Of course why would a stripper tell you their real name, that would just lead to all sorts of trouble. If they were going to be working together though, maybe he should ask. Or would that be rude? He wasn't sure what the proper etiquette for this situation was.

Thumbing in the name 'Apollo' for now, he decides to call the one person who might know. The phone rings for several long moments before a groggy voice answers.

_"Tobio-chan, I love you, but I'm sleeping."_

He ignores Oikawa's complaints. "Is it rude to ask a stripper their real name?"

_"Very. Can I go back to bed now?"_

"No but what if you're going to be working with them in a non-sexual, non-stripper way?"

_"Wait,"_ the rustling of sheets grates through the speakers. _"Does this mean that Apollo agreed to work as your model?"_

"Yeah." He's smiling, too giddy to care if he looks like a lunatic.

_"Well that's great news! When do I need to be out of the apartment?"_

"We haven't finalized any of those details yet. He gave me his number though."

_"Ooo, you guys are moving fast."_

"Shut up."

His laugh is static through the phone line. _"Alright, alright, but seriously, nice job. I'm proud of you."_

"For talking to another human being?"

_"Exactly."_

He snorts. "Thanks," he says dryly, "I'm flattered."

_"You should be. Now I have a photoshoot tomorrow-"_

"And a video to upload."

_"Oh shit, right."_ Oikawa groans. _"Yeah, okay, then I'm really going to bed. Night night."_

"Bye." He clicks the 'end call' button, pocketing his phone. The more vindictive side of him briefly debates sending the older male a slew of text messages as retribution for his earlier fashionable suffering. (So many skinny jeans, so much pain) The little voice sounds awfully like Oikawa. But no, then it would probably turn into some sort of pranking war and he left the college dorms to escape that nonsense. Although that plan hadn't actually worked, given that Oikawa has already instigated about seven different ridiculous war-like games in the three years he has lived with him.

Instead he reviews the events of the night. He hadn't expected Apollo to be so kind. Beautiful, sure, but the cheerful man had caught him off guard.

He is feeling a little lost.

But Apollo is going to model for him.

The beautiful, magnetic, enchanting Apollo.

Distantly, Kageyama realizes that he's smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that this is a day late, but I wanted to do a double update. I hope you can appreciate that. Anyways, here are a few notes before I close things up!  
> -The full title of this double chapter update is from "When the Day Met the Night" by Panic! at the Disco  
> -Yes, Kageyama runs an art blog where he sells his work. He's a college student, where do you think he gets his money? I think that just as Hinata was originally impressed by Kageyama in Haikyuu, it fits that he would be this way here as well.  
> -Tanaka is protective big brother.  
> -So is Kuroo (though he might be a cat-mom)  
> -For those of you who think Hinata agreed too quickly, he already knows who Kageyama is as an artist, and he's a fan. Mostly he was excited about the opportunity. That's why everyone else is being cautious for him.  
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and will continue to follow the story! I'll see you all next update!


	6. I'm Through With Love

_Beep boop boopbidibeep._

_Beep boop boopbidibeep._

_Beep boop boopbidibeep._

_Beep boop boopbi-_

Hinata groans awake by the fourth ring, grappling for his phone in a drowsy daze. Who the hell was texting him at- he quickly checks the time on his phone- 9 a.m.?

Wait.

Nine?

_Nine?!_

"Fuck!" Sitting up quickly, Hinata trips out of bed. "Natsu! Wake up!" He was supposed to wake Natsu up over an hour ago for school! Why hadn't his alarm gone off? Shit he had really messed up.

Not bothering to dress himself, he stumbles across his floor and slams into the door. Wincing as his forehead knocks against it, he distantly registers the sound of paper crinkling against his face.

Wait - paper?

He extracts himself from the wood and examines the sheet of paper taped to it. The words are barely legible and he has to squint to read it in the dim light, but he still manages to make them out.

"Shouyou," it reads, “for starters, take a deep breath and stop panicking.” Hinata does so, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth before continuing to read. "Great job. Now, Natsu is fine. I took her to school already and turned off your alarm so that you could sleep in. You were exhausted last night and I figured you needed the rest. Sleep well, Kozume."

That _fucker._

Never give someone your phone password. _Ever._

Well, Hinata had been pretty exhausted last night. Although it was ridiculous for Kenma to wait up. When he had stumbled home in a state of half consciousness, he almost didn't notice the older boy curled up on his couch.

_"What are you doing here?" He had asked, the words slurring together as he yawned._

_Kenma glanced up from his DS, gold eyes glazed from lack of sleep. "Oh, you're home."_

_"Well yeah, why are you here?"_

_"I was waiting for you."_

_"Kozu..." laughing softly, he leaned against the back of the couch. "You're insane."_

_"And you're a wreck." He frowned, surveying the younger's features. "Are you alright?"_

_"Just tired." He crawled onto the sofa with Kenma, laying his head on the other's lap._

_Kenma adjusted immediately so Hinata could watch him play. His character traveled across the screen, chatting with the animal creatures in the village. "Rough night?"_

_"Sort of. Although I did get a job offer."_

_"What?" His tone was suspicious._

_"Don't get your panties in a twist, it wasn't anything bad. He wants me to work as his model."_

_"And you accepted?"_

_"He wasn't some random guy. It was actually that artist I like. Tobio Kageyama? With the blog, Royal Arts?"_

_"That doesn't make him trustworthy. He could still be-"_

_"Kozume," he groaned. "I've already had enough people nag me tonight. Now I just want to rest."_

_"Are you going to bed?"_

_Hinata was thankful for how easily Kenma switched topics. "It's probably not worth it. I'll just have to get up again in another two hours."_

_"You should get some rest."_

_"I'll be fine. Though maybe-" he yawned, "maybe I could take a short nap."_

_"That might be a good idea." His smile was fond as he watched Hinata snuggle into his legs, eyelids drooping._

_"If you plan on staying over, you have to wake me up."_

_Hinata didn't hear Kenma's response, his brain too addled by exhaustion. The last he remembered was the soft, cheerful music coming from the DS before he drifted off to sleep._

So Kenma had probably carried him to bed sometime after that, and decided to make a decision for Hinata without his consent. He debates whether the gesture is sweet or invasive.

It's a difficult decision.

Either way, the important thing is Natsu. If Kenma took her to school around eight, then he would be back by now. So either he had decided to go home like a normal person or he is, once again, raiding Hinata's apartment. He knows which one is more likely, but it never hurts to check.

Hinata throws open his bedroom door, moving through the hallway. Soft music echoes through the rooms, filling the house with lilting guitar notes. Hips swaying absently in time to the melody, he moves into the kitchen. His earlier suspicions are proven true when he sees none other than Kozume Kenma standing casually in front of his stove top. The scent of pancakes wafts from the kitchen. He's wearing a god awful green and yellow striped sweater, and his hair is pulled up in a short ponytail. A few loose strands fall over his golden eyes, which remain intensely focused on his cooking.

Fondness swells inside Hinata's chest at the domestic scene. His earlier irritation isn't completely faded yet, but he knows he can't stay angry at Kenma. He has never been able to.

He watches the older boy for a moment before speaking up. "The note was a nice touch."

Kenma startles violently, turning to Hinata and clutching the spatula to his chest like a shield. He relaxes instantly when he sees him. "Oh, good morning Shouyou. I made coffee."

"Is that really all you have to say?" Despite his aggravated tone, he takes the mug from the countertop. Hopping onto the island gracefully, he dangles his legs over the edge, taking a careful sip from his mug. It even has his favorite hazelnut creamer. He wonders if this is Kenma's way of apologizing.

"What else is there to say?"

...Perhaps he spoke too soon.

"You know, maybe how you're sorry for being a nosy and invasive jerk that made me panic this morning?"

"You mean a nosy and invasive jerk that let you get a few extra hours of sleep?" Turning around, he freezes. "Oh my god."

Hinata is momentarily confused, before he watches the other's face turn cherry red and realizes what he noticed. " _What?_ " He grins, stretching his legs, "you don't like them?"

Kenma averts his eyes from Hinata's slender legs, currently clad in violet thigh highs with lace edges. "Please dress yourself properly."

"But then I wouldn't be able to make you so _deliciously_ uncomfortable."

"Are you wearing anything else?"

With a raised brow, he fingers the oversized band T-shirt he wears hanging loosely off one shoulder. "You mean besides this?"

"Yes I mean besides that."

Hinata pretends to think about it before replying, "Well I _am_ wearing a super cute pair of panties."

"Oh my god." Kenma covers his burning face with his hands. " _Shouyou._ "

He cracks then, no longer able to contain his laughter. Kenma glares at him as Hinata doubles over, clutching his drink to his chest. "Omg your face," Hinata gasps out between giggles. "What's up with that? I'm totally kink shaming."

"Shut up or you won't get any pancakes." He turns back to the stove. "So...are you wearing that for work or...?"

"Can a man not wear lace in his own home without judgment?"

"I'm not-" He lets out a noise of aggravation. "Nevermind."

The silence is thick. "Are you angry?"

"I'm not."

"Good." He sips his coffee. "You took Natsu to school."

"I did."

"Without asking me first."

Kenma pauses. "You looked like you needed the sleep. It's important that you take care of yourself, or else-"

"Kozume." Kenma glances towards him, ceasing his rambling. "I'm twenty-two years old. I don't need you constantly worrying about me, even if-"

"Do you know what day it is today?"

Faltering, Hinata meets his eyes questioningly. "Excuse me?"

"It's his birthday."

His mug pauses on its way to his lips. "Is that what this is about?"

"Are you going to celebrate?"

Hinata scoffs. "Oh of course, let me just summon up the ghost of my dead father and we can pull out the cake and balloons."

"That's not what I meant."

"Well what else am I supposed to do?" His voice rises. "Should I grab Natsu? Tell her another story about the father she never knew? Say "oh and by the way, it's his birthday, how about we bring _presents to his grave!_ "'

In lieu of response, Kenma places a comforting hand on Hinata's shoulder. The younger boy releases a breath, calming down, as the other rubs soothing circles on his back.

When he speaks, his voice has lost its edge. "Why would you bring that up?"

"I just...I didn't know if you wanted to do anything." It sounds like a lie.

"Then give me your phone."

Kenma does so, handing him the device with a confused look. Hinata types his pass code in quickly, 7468968, and pulls up the music app. The soft guitar is replaced with haunting violin and sultry vocals.

"Marilyn Monroe?"

"My dad loved her," Hinata explains. "This is enough celebration."

Silently, Kenma sits next to Hinata on the counter. "It's okay to miss people."

"I've missed him for seven years Ken," he sighs. "It hasn't helped anybody yet."

"That doesn't mean it's wrong."

He smiles softly, but doesn’t agree. They sit there in comfortable silence, allowing the music to fill the space. Unconsciously, Hinata begins to sing along- letting the familiar words wash over him. " _Goodbye to spring and all it meant to me, It can never bring the thing that used to be. For I must have you or no one~ and so I'm through with love..._ "

Kenma places an arm over his shoulder and ignores how, despite Hinata's clear voice, his body won't stop trembling.

oOo

Hours later, Kenma is passed out on the couch, curled up in a ball of blankets and pillows. Hinata chuckles at the sight, draping another blanket over his sleeping form. It is his fault for staying up all night.

'Two Little Girls from Little Rock' plays faintly in the background, the Marilyn playlist set on loop. Humming along, he moves through the hallway to his bedroom to retrieve his phone. He considers going back to bed, he only got a little over 4 hours of rest last night, but he's not sure if he could fall back asleep right now. Instead, he grabs his phone from the nightstand, unlocking it and checking his notifications.

"What the hell?" He says, voicing his thoughts aloud. His phone is filled with texts from an unknown number. He reads through them with bemused curiosity.

**unknown number**

_Hello. Do u want to set up a time to meet? I can txt u my address._

_Oh wait that sounds rlly shady._

_It's Tobio Kageyama. We talked the other night at the club? Abt the model job?_

_Anyhow whens a good time for us to meet?_

_If u still want to do it._

_If not thats cool u can totally back out._

 

Hinata snickers, reading the texts over again. Who knew that the artist was such a dork? Although apparently his texts were the ones that woke him up this morning. Who is up that early?

He quickly adds Kageyama to his contacts and replies to his texts.

**Kageyama**

_Hey there! Srry for the late reply, I was sleeping. I'd love to set up a time to meet. Maybe tomorrow?_

 

Collapsing onto the couch beside Kenma (he barely takes up any space, it borders on ridiculous) Hinata lets out a breath. He flips through apps on his phone, debating which game to open. A new text interrupts his musing.

**Kageyama**

_That works. Can you come over at 3?_

 

Fast reply. However three is when school lets out for Natsu and no matter how much he likes this guy's art, there is no way he is missing time with his baby sister.

**Kageyama**

_Mmm srry, any time after 3 is no good for me. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Before that is probably okay though._

_Then can u come over from ten to two? I think that'll give me enough time for me to start working._

_Works 4 me! (⌒▽⌒) Just send me ur address and I'll b ther tmrw._

 

Hinata lets his phone fall to his chest with a thump, exhaling deeply. A smile creeps onto his face.

He is going to work with Tobio Kageyama.

His favorite artist.

_'Well,'_ Hinata thinks, _'I just hope he's not a total jerk.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is about two days late, but I had some trouble with it. Anyhow, it's here now and I'm happy with it. As always, I'll wrap up the chapter with a few notes.  
> -This week's title is I'm Through With Love by Marilyn Monroe  
> -The big shock this week was about Hinata and Natsu's dad. Yes, he is dead and, as Hinata said, has been for 7 years now. Hey Hey Hey! You know what else happened 7 years ago? Natsu was born! That's right, she is 7 years old. That was said in chapter 2. (I know, so long ago.) More about Hinata's past will be revealed as time goes on, because I have a hell of a lot planned, so stay tuned and pay attention.  
> -Kenma's phone pass code- 7468968? Look at a keypad and the numbers spell out SHOUYOU.  
> -Hinata uses emojis liberally and frequently. Everyone can fight me.  
> Next chapter will feature Kageyama and Hinata meeting again, and Kags being adorably awkward. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and that you'll continue following the story!


	7. Dancing On Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Should I pose or something? Vogue it out?" 
> 
> “That’s not really necessary. You see..." Sheepishly, his eyes turn downcast. "I'm actually not quite sure what to paint."

Kageyama twitches nervously, knuckles white as he clutches his knees. A million thoughts race through his mind, an endless stream of worries and fears. What if Hinata hates him? What if he doesn't show up? What if the whole thing is actually some elaborate joke set up by his asshole friends? Tsukishima would pull this shit. Oh god this is _exactly_ this kind of crap he would pull. How could he be so stupid? Why would someone like Hinata ever want to be around someone like him?

"Kageyama." A calming hand rests on his shoulder, startling him out of the spiral of panic that he was swiftly falling into. He turns to look into Suga's smiling face. "Breathe."

He does so, taking steady breaths. The couch's weight shifts as the older male sits beside him on the burgundy cushions. "I'm okay, I'm okay." He's not sure which one of them he's reassuring.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing in particular."

An arched eyebrow displays Suga's disbelief.

"Seriously," he insists, "it's nothing."

His warm eyes search Kageyama's face, looking for some sign of the truth. Reluctantly, he relents. "If you say so. Just know that if you change your mind, you can always talk to me."

"I know. Thanks Suga."

"Of course. So," he reclines against the back of the sofa with a smile, "what's up? Isn't that dancer coming over today?"

"His name is Hinata, and he's coming over at ten."

"Is he nice?"

Kageyama considers the question. "He uses a lot of emojis."

Blinking surprised, Suga bursts into laughter. "Kageyama you're a gift."

"Thanks?" His face scrunches up in confusion.

He suppresses his laughter with a hand. "Won't this be your second time seeing him in person?"

Kageyama tenses.

"Ah." His tone is laced with quiet understanding. "I figured it was something like that."

"Shut up."

"Hey come on, I didn't mean it like that." Draping an arm over the younger's shoulders, Suga pulls him closer. "It's all going to be alright, okay? Hinata is going to meet you and realize how talented and sweet you are and you guys will get along great and you will create some amazing paintings of him. Alright?"

Kageyama remains silent.

" _Alright?_ " He emphasizes the word by jabbing at Kageyama's sides, tickling him incessantly. The action forces a grin out of the artist.

"Alright, _alright,_ " he agrees, pushing him away. Quieter he says, "You’re always right."

A shocked noise escapes him. "Kageyama..." Smiling softly, he pulls the other into a tight hug. Kageyama sighs, but allows him to do so. You can't escape Suga's hugs. "I'm not always right you know. I'm only human."

His voice is muffled by Suga's shoulder, where his face is buried. "Even so, you always know what to say."

"That just comes from experience."

"Of being a therapist?"

"I'm going to be a doctor, not a therapist," he laughs. "But no, I meant experience with raising you children."

He chuckles weakly, allowing them to lapse into a comfortable silence. "Thanks," he says eventually. "For everything."

Suga merely smiles. "Of course."

 

oOo

 

Three hours.

Three _fucking_ hours of sleep.

God this was such a bad idea.

While in theory it had been a great idea to agree to this model job, in practice it isn't. After stumbling home at around 4:30 a.m., Hinata had slept for roughly two hours before he had to get Natsu ready for school. Then he had passed out again and slept for another hour before he had to wake up again to get ready for his model job. Why did he have to schedule it for ten a.m.? Why not...actually no other time would be much better.

"I hate my life," Hinata mutters, dragging his converse across the sidewalk. The city is abuzz around him, a swarm of gray people surrounded by gray buildings on all sides. His bright clothes, yellow and reds paired with well-worn jeans, stand out like a beacon among the dull sea. Ear buds planted firmly in his ears, he allows the cheerful pop music to flood his senses. It's the only thing keeping him awake right now.

Kageyama had texted him his address around 8, much to Hinata's horror. (Seriously, who is up that early?! Besides Hinata, of course, who is up earlier, but that's only because he has to be.) Now the dancer makes his way to the other's apartment through the busy streets. His head bobs along to the beat as he passes by storefronts and skyscrapers, all blended together in the downtown area. He had thought no one lived here.

His musings are interrupted by air horns blaring from his pocket. Hinata sighs, unpocketing his phone and opening the text message with a mixture of apprehension and amusement. Only one person has that obnoxious text alert. No matter how much he loves him, it is a little early for his antics.

**Bokuto**

_hey hey hey!!!!!!!!_

_whats up little man??_

_Bokuto!!_

_what u need_

_Im hurt u wld assume such a thing_

_HURT_

_i actually need NOTHING i just wanted to say HEY to my fav son_

( ^ー^ )

_im having a lazy day today. Kuroo and i are going out to lunch and then just chillin and watching movies_

_possibly having some FUN if u kno what i mean_

_u guys r cute, but tmi （=｀～´=)_

_wait u guys rnt busy?_

_uhhh i guess no? neither of us have work_

_OMG THATS GREAT_

_watch Natsu 4 me_

_waaaaaaat_

_PLZZZZZZZ_

_its parents nite school and I need someone 2 watch her 4 me_

_itll only be for 2hrs tops_

_probs less_

_ull earn father pts?_

_sign me the FUCK up_

_BUT ONLY CAUSE SHES MY GRANDDAUGHTER_

_and she can chill with her grandpas_

_THX SO MUCH!_

_I gtg but ill txt u later_

_get what u want and jet_

_c how it is_

Hinata laughs. Bokuto is always so overdramatic. However he's glad that he finally got someone to watch Natsu. Kenma is busy with work (which almost never happens since he primarily works from home. It's probably some CIA shit.) He feels a little bad about messing up Kuroo and Bokuto's date night, but they both love Natsu, so it shouldn't be an issue. 

Turning the corner, Hinata approaches a brick building covered in graffiti. He surveys the place critically. "Is this really the address?" With a shrug, he goes inside, unsurprised to find the door unlocked. He takes the stairs to the third (and top) floor two at a time. He passes by a few of the tennants on his way by, one being a larger man dressed only in a beach towel that, sadly, is not around his waist and another being a not so cheerful clown. 

Fun neighborhood. 

He reaches Kageyama's apartment fairly quickly, knocking on a paint covered sliding-garage door. Five seconds pass before he knocks again, louder this time. Sighing, he runs a hand through his unruly hair. Does he have the right address? 

"I'm coming! I'm- _oh shit_ -" A loud crash echoes from inside the apartment. Banging follows the noise, accompanied by frantic footsteps. Several locks are unbolted before the door slides open, revealing Kageyama Tobio. He greets the orange haired man with a sheepish grin. "Sorry for the delay." 

"It's no big deal." Hinata surveys the dark haired male with a grin. He wears ripped jean capris and an army green cut off tank with a UFO design. The tights covering his legs are mismatched, one leg solid black while the other is pink and black polka dotted. All his clothes are splattered in paint. " _Sooo_...can I come in?" 

"Oh! Yes, of course! Come on in." Kageyama steps aside to allow him inside. 

Hinata does so with a smile. "Thanks Kags." 

The apartment is huge, a wide open space with high ceilings, massive light filled windows, and exposed brick walls. It opens into a living room with mismatched furniture spread over dark wood floors blanketed by a knit rug. To the left of the entrance is a kitchen with an island counter, bar stools, and a fully stocked bar. _'Daichi would love it here,'_ Hinata muses. Across from the living room he can see a raised platform surrounded by a wall of turquoise beads. To its right is a hallway, and to its left is a twirling staircase going up to what he presumes is another floor. Every wall not covered by paintings is covered in paint- graffiti or otherwise. There seems to be a discarded mirror propped up against the wall, a stiletto heel placed on a pedestal, and a box of records next to the million blank or half painted canvases covering the apartment. Hinata immediately likes the place. It's a little retro, a little glam, and a little dingy, but it seems to suit the handsome artist. 

"Nice place you got here." Hinata takes it all in with due appreciation. 

The door slides closed with a slam before Kageyama refastens the locks. "Thanks. My roommates are out at the moment, so luckily you won't have to deal with their unique brand of ridiculousness." 

"I get enough of that at the club," Hinata snorts. "So what exactly am I supposed to do here?" 

"Oh right!" Kageyama jumps as though snapped out of a daze, hurrying away. He returns hauling an easel and canvas, placing them in the living room. Watching bemused, Hinata strolls over to the center of the room as the taller male pushes furniture away, clearing the area, and arranges his paints. 

When he's finished scurrying about, Hinata speaks. "Should I pose or something? Vogue it out?” 

“That’s not really necessary. You see..." Sheepishly, his eyes turn downcast. "I'm actually not quite sure what to paint." 

The silence that ensues is overwhelming. 

"So you mean to tell me..." Hinata speaks slowly, enunciating each word. "That you have no idea what you're going to paint, and yet you brought me here so that you _could_ paint, using me?" 

"Well...yes." 

A moment passes. 

"Kageyama." 

"Yeah?" 

Hinata explodes. "I thought that I had inspired you!" 

"I told you that I was uninspired again!" Kageyama fires back. 

"So what am I supposed to do!" 

"How am I supposed to know?!" 

"You're the artist!" 

"I-" Biting his lip, he falters. "That's true." 

Hinata groans, burying his head in his hands. "Oh god. Why is this my life?" 

"Sorry." 

"It's fine, it's fine." He inhales deeply. "Seriously though, what do you want me to do?" 

"Well you see, the assignment is a series of original paintings. So I can't just paint your portrait. I was thinking that maybe we could just...talk? Hopefully it'll help me get some ideas." 

A manicured eyebrow arches elegantly. "Talking? You just want to _talk_ to me?" 

Kageyama shuffles his feet. "Yes?" 

"Not watch me dance or anything?" 

"Oh, I mean, I might come see you dance at the club again for more inspiration but, well," his eyes shine with honesty when they meet the others, "I'd rather just talk with you." 

The bluntness with which he states it catches Hinata off guard. No flirtatious undertones, no ulterior motives, nothing. It's disconcerting. People aren't usually kind unless it suits them. Hinata knows that from experience. 

"Alright." Hinata plops in the striped papasan chair beside the couch, crossing his legs. "What do you want to talk about?" 

Kageyama sits stiffly on the couch. "Can you tell me your full name?" 

"Lord Edmure of House Tully," he says sarcastically. A grin spreads across his lips as he kicks playfully at the other's legs. "Don't be so serious dude. And the name's Shouyou Hinata. Why do you need to know?" 

"To credit you for the project." His shoulders loosen fractionally. "So when did you start dancing?" 

"I started working at the club a little over three years ago, but I've been dancing basically all of my life." 

"Seriously?" 

"Oh yeah!" He beams, pleased. "I always loved to dance to Marilyn songs my Grandma and Dad would play. My Grandpa always said it was _"too girly,"_ but my Dad encouraged me to do it. He signed me up for dance lessons when I was four and the rest is history." 

"Wow," Kageyama nods, impressed. "You've been dancing for a long time." 

"It's my passion." 

"Have you ever thought of going professional?" 

His smile wavers. "Once upon a time, maybe. Sadly we can't all follow our dreams. Some of us have to prioritize." 

Kageyama takes the hint and changes topics. "So your Dad inspired you to dance?" 

"Yeah, he always encouraged me to pursue what I loved." Hinata looks away, melancholy. "He meant the world to me." 

Shit he fucked up again. 

"U-Um," he fumbles over his words, "and what about your other family? What's your mom like?" 

Hinata's features darken, face clouding as though storm clouds have rolled over it. Amber eyes flash with gold lightning. His voice is a low growl. "I don't have a mother." 

How to respond to _that?_

Be suave Kageyama. 

"Oh. I see." 

_Nailed it._

"Sorry," Hinata coughs, laughing awkwardly. Dark aura dispersing, he returns to his cheery self. 

"No problem." Cough. "So you're a Marilyn Monroe fan?" 

He brightens instantly. "I love a lot of songs from that era, but Marilyn is _definitely_ the best. Although she's probably not the best role model." 

"Hmm..." Kageyama begins sketching on his pad. 

"Did you have an idea?" He asks, craning his neck to see the progressing drawing. 

"Nothing big, just something indefinite that might form into something concrete." His eyes remain glued to the page. "So what other music do you like?" 

"I'll listen to anything really, as long as I can dance to it. What about you?" 

"Me?" 

"Yeah, what music do you listen to?" He laughs at Kageyama's startled face. "What, did you think this questioning would be one-sided? I have a right to know about the guy I'll be working with." 

"I don't really listen to music." 

Hinata gasps. " _What?!_ " He says, scandalized. "You can't be serious." 

"It's just not something I do a lot." 

"That's a damn crime YamaYama-kun." 

"The _fuck_ did you just call me?" 

"It's a nickname." 

He fumes, red faced. "You are _not_ calling me that!" 

"That aside-" 

"No don't _'that aside'_ me!" 

Hinata ignores him. "It is my duty as a person and lover of music to introduce you to some quality songs." Leaping up from the chair, he scans the apartment. "Where's your sound system?" 

"We have some speakers over there." Kageyama motions to them. "But-" 

Hinata moves swiftly, paying the other no mind, and pulls out his phone. He plugs it into the system, glad to find that he knows how to operate it, (he was almost expecting that the artist would only have a record player) and scrolls through his song selection, choosing one with a grin. 

The music echoes throughout the apartment, a techno tune with an emphasized beat. A devious smile splits Hinata's face as he spins around. Kageyama has a distant feeling of dread. As he sways his hips, Hinata mouths the words to the song. His arms move like snakes above him, twisting around themselves. 

"What?" He responds to Kageyama's stunned expression. "Do you not dance?" 

"N-no, not usuall-" 

Grabbing his hand, Hinata drags Kageyama from the couch. He intertwines their hands, just allowing them to move together. His feet slide across the floor, shuffling and tapping alongside Kageyama's stumbling toes. He smiles up at the artist. "Let the music do the work. You just have to move." 

They break apart, Hinata raising his arms once more. His legs coil underneath him, curling around themselves before he rises again. He sways in time to the beat, closing his eyes, allowing the sound to flood his senses. He cracks an eye open to check on Kageyama, who stands stock still, only bouncing his feet slightly. Hinata groans. 

"Come on Kageyama, you can do better than that." Skipping over, he weaves their hands together once more, ignoring Kageyama's noise of surprise. 

"This seems really unprofessional." 

Hinata laughs brightly. "Baby, that's the only way I do things." 

He twirls under the artist's arm, keeping their hands linked as he pulls away. Spinning again, he twists into Kageyama's chest, wrapping the taller male's arm around himself in the process. The action brings their noses centimeters apart, and Kageyama's face burns in embarrassment. Hinata smirks. The song slows in the background as the dancer leans closer, letting their breath mingle. Hinata's eyelids flutter until they're merely slits of shining amber, grinning devilishly before- 

" _How long til we learn!_ " He belts, leaping away. " _Dancing is dangerous!_ " 

Kageyama startles violently, stumbling. He glares daggers at the cackling man dancing around his living room still singing along to the song. "Hinata!" He roars. 

Paying the other no mind, he continues his movements. It has deteriorated into less of a choreographed piece and more of Hinata freestyling and goofing around. He twirls and leaps, his moves ranging from hip hop to ballet to Apollo's style to simple movement. At one point he jumps onto the couch, laughing as he spins across the cushions. 

"Hinata!" Kageyama yells, twitching in annoyance. "Get down from there dumbass!" 

"Get down? Okay!" He perches on the arm of the sofa, standing with a smile. 

"Don't you-" 

With a wink, Hinata soars off through the air, knees bent, arms crossed behind his head. Laughter bubbles out of him. A feeling of joy floods his chest at the sensation of flying. 

Kageyama pauses mid shout, frozen at the sight before him. Backlit by the afternoon sun streaming through the window in a golden halo, floating slightly off the ground, Hinata resembles an angel. He can almost see the outline of wings on his back. 

Oh. 

Oh _yes._

Hinata lands in a perfect pirouette, pivoting on one foot to face Kageyama. He spreads his arms widely as if to say ta-dah. The effect is lost when he notices that he has lost the other's attention. "What are you doing?" 

He adjusts the canvas, tracing delicate lines across the white surface. "I had the perfect idea." 

"Seriously?!" 

"Seriously." 

"Alright!" Hinata pumps his fist into the air. "So what do you need me to do?" 

Glancing up from his work, he eyes him seriously. "Would you mind jumping off of the couch again?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Hey Hey! Guess who's back! This update is a little late, but I still got it posted! I apologize for any future lateness with updates- I've been having some medical issues recently that have kind of been messing with my schedule. Sorry! I'll try to keep my update schedule as on track as possible. Now, some notes!  
> -This week's chapter title is Dancing on Glass by St.Lucia. I listened to this song on loop while writing the last part of this chapter.  
> -Kageyama/Oikawa/Suga's apartments is primarily inspired by Felix's loft from Orphan Black for some odd reason.  
> -Why is Hinata such a Marilyn fan? I don't know, this sort of developed into a personal headcannon of mine a while ago and now I can't shake it.  
> -Kudos to anyone who caught the Game of Thrones reference. Hinata doesn't actually watch that show of his own accord, but he has a friend who does. We'll see who in a later chapter.  
> -Kageyama called Hinata dumbass for the first time in this chapter mark your calenders.  
> -Some of you may have noticed that the tags have changed. As in, KuroKen is gone and the BoKuroo is in big shiny gold letters. (not really, but you get the point) You'll also notice that BoKuroo was mentioned in this chapter. DON'T PANIC. Look at the tags, BoAka is still there. Also, it was implied they were an item in a past chapter. SO YOU'RE PROBABLY CONFUSED. Aren't we all? Seriously though, it'll all be explained later. If you're new, just keep reading and everything will come to light.  
> If you have been following the story from some time and are wondering why KuroKen is no longer a thing, that's because I made a mistake. That was supposed to be Kuroo&Kenma. I decided to delete it altogether for clarity. I sincerely apologize for my mistake, just go read the relationship tags that are there now to see what will be the finals. Some may be added, but the ones there now won't change.  
> Now since that messiness is over with, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it- it may be one of my faves thus far! I'll try to get the next one up sometime soon, so please stay tuned! I always love to hear how I am doing, so leave a comment below! Lots of love!


	8. All the Red Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions are asked, relationships are questioned, and Hinata can't handle it.

"Holy shit, what crawled up your ass and died?"

Kageyama's voice is muffled by the pillow that his face is smothered by. "Shut. The fuck. Up."

"No, actually, I retract my former statement." Kei Tsukishima slams the door shut behind him, strutting over to the artist currently belly-flopped on the sofa. "What deity answered my life-long prayers, and finally struck you down with their holy might? Because I need to send them my thanks."

Not bothering to move from his current position (whether due to laziness or not wanting to face the smug bastard, we may never know) Kageyama yells at him through the velvet pillows. "How the hell did you even get in here? I have, like, 20 locks on the door."

"Firstly, you only have five locks and secondly, a lock won't do you much good when I have a key." A slight jangling sounds as the blonde waves the object around for emphasis.

"Who the fuck-"

"Who do you think? Oikawa hands them out like it's going out of style."

Kageyama scowls, though the action goes unseen by the other. "So you'll accept a key to my apartment, but you wouldn't move in with your own boyfriend for three fucking years?"

"Well we can't all blindly rush into things like you."

"You've been dating since high school."

"Fuck you too Prince Lev Nikolayevich Myshkin."

"I- wait," unburying his face in the cushion, Kageyama greets the other with the most judgmental glare he can muster. "Who the _fuck_ is that supposed to be?"

"You know? The main protagonist of Fyodor Dostoyevsky's famous novel 'The Idiot?'" His tone is, as per usual, unbearably condescending. "Who was, as any 3rd grader could infer, the aforementioned idiot of said novel. Not that you'd know that."

"While your attempt to insult my intelligence is commendable, I'm sad to inform you that I honestly don't give a shit."

Tsukishima snorts, leaning against the armrest of the couch. "So why is your broody ass the only one here?"

"Suga has the night shift at the hospital, and I think Tooru is at a party or some shit."

"Leaving you alone in the apartment because they didn't want to deal with your mopey bullshit."

"Speaking of my apartment, why are _you_ in it?"

"Because I aspire to ruin your life in any and every way possible."

"So your boyfriend isn't home and you have no friends?"

"You're one to talk Lucy Lonesome." He crosses over to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of bourbon from the bar.

"Where is Yamaguchi anyhow?"

"Parent-teacher conferences are tonight, so apparently he has to be there." He raises the bottle, "You want a glass?"

"Only milk for me, thanks."

"And you question the nickname."

His eyes narrow. "What nickname?"

"Milk lover 2.0.?"

"Ah," Recognizing the contact name Tsukishima assigned to him years ago, he settles back onto the couch. "And no, I don't question the milk part, I question the '2.0.' aspect of it."

"I told you," he groans, seemingly exasperated, "1.0. is Wakatoshi Ujishima."

"The model from that company Tooru hates?"

"That's the one. And since he's about five years older, you are the secondary version."

"How do you know he likes milk?"

"Because Oikawa talks about him so much that I'm literally about to march into this Waka-guy's office and pay him to fuck the snotty bastard so that I can get some _goddamn peace and quiet!_ " He takes a swig directly from the bottle.

"Does he rant to you too?"

"I think he has a thing for bothering college students."

"It's almost creepy."

"No, it's very creepy; we've just grown accustomed to it." The glasses clink together as be carries them over, setting them down on the coffee table. "I actually have a working theory that we're suffering from some branch of Stockholm syndrome."

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"Of course you're obviously suffering from the worst of it, given by the fact that you agreed to _live_ with him."

"I was drunk!"

"You're still _here_ aren't you?"

"You're here too dickhead," he grumbles, curling his knees to his chest and taking a petulant sip of his milk.

"I don't _live_ in this madhouse."

"No, because while I have to be here due to my basic need for shelter, you come here willingly."

"I told you I'm-"

"Constantly requiring the companionship and validation of others?"

"Go to hell." He collapses beside Kageyama on the sofa. "So what's wrong with you?"

The question startles him so badly that he almost drops his milk. His eyes scan the other's face critically, attempting to determine whether the question is serious or not. "Nothing," he answers warily.

"Well that's obviously a lie."

"Why do you want to know?" His voice is sharp.

Tsukishima doesn't speak, but his noncommittal shrug and long sip of bourbon speaks volumes. The answer is painfully simple- talking about other people's problems distracts you from your own. Kageyama had been trying to do it himself. Although he has a feeling this time the other's problems might be worse than his own.

"It's Hinata," he explains. "He's... _difficult_ to work with."

"Sounds like someone else I know."

"If you're just going to-"

"Fine, I'll be good." Chuckling, he raises his hands in mock surrender.

Kageyama huffs. "It's not that I don't like him or anything, but he's just so distracting."

"How so?"

"Just...everything about him I suppose. He never sits still; He's constantly tapping his feet or dancing or doing _something_. His hair is obnoxiously bright too and he fiddles with it or braids the strands when he's bored. Plus he won't stop humming or talking- how am I supposed to focus when he's chatting my ear off? And he constantly insists on looking at what I'm painting, even though I _tell_ him to stay still! And-"

"Wait, wait, wait." His voice hitches as he tries to hold in his laughter. "Haven't you only had _one session_ with this guy?"

"I- Yeah? So?"

"Kageyama, you have a problem."

"W-What!?" He splutters indignantly. "I do not!"

"Then why the hell are you observing him like he's some lab specimen?"

"He's the subject of my paintings! I have to notice these things!"

"Whatever you say Kageyama." Amused disbelief shines in his eyes. "Either way, you're the one who agreed to work with him."

"I didn't expect him to be so...loud." He scrunches his nose.

"Well look at it this way, as long as you get the paintings done it really doesn't matter what he's like."

"I guess you're right."

"Of course I am, it's my specialty."

A grin curves at the edges of his mouth. "Don't get too cocky, asshole."

"Says the one submerged waist deep in denial."

"Huh?"

Tsukishima sighs. "Nevermind." Lord, dealing with this oblivious idiot is such a pain.

He just hopes this all doesn't go horribly wrong.

 

oOo

 

"Mr. Hinata?"

Hinata glances up quickly from his phone to the dark haired man in the doorway. "Yes?"

"It's time for your meeting."

"Oh, um-" He rises from the uncomftorable plastic chair, straightening his collar. "Right."

The student teacher- Yamaguchi, Hinata thinks his name is- smiles warmly. "You can come right on in."

"Thanks." His grin stretches unnaturally across his features, making his cheeks feel plastic-like. Anxiety boils in the pit of his chest as he enters the classroom, a stewing cauldron of bad memories and an overflowing feeling of foreboding. He doesn't necessarily have anything _against_ teachers, but his experiences with them have been... _unpleasant_ thus far. Sure Natsu's instructors are all smiles when he comes to pick her up, full of pleasantries and compliments and "you're such a nice big brother"s. But whenever it comes to a conference, especially parent teacher conferences, they are an absolute horror to deal with. Everytime it is _"you can't be here"_ or _"I need to see her mother and father."_ The second he explains, agonizingly slow as to not be unclear, that he is her legal guardian, they either switch to silent judgment and scathing glares or excessive apologies and awkward shifting. Whichever it is, the rumor mill is always turning the next day.

Not once has he been able to maintain a good relationship with one of Natsu's teachers. He doubts that this time will be any different. So preparing himself for the inevitable, he greets the instructor politely, announcing his presence.

"Huh? Who- oh!" Takeda-sensei, as Natsu refers to him, stumbles out of his chair, running a hand through his unruly curls. "Hello there! You're Natsu's older brother, yes?"

"That I am." He examines the man curiously, taking in his hastily tucked in button down and crooked glasses.

"It's so nice to see you! Come, sit down." He beams, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

"Oh. Right." Strange- no pointed questions about where his parents are or anything. This hasn't happened before.

"So," Takeda folds his hands on the table once Hinata is seated, "let's get right down to it."

"Of course." This is so weird.

"Natsu is a very good student, one of the best actually. She's sociable, energetic, and extremely outgoing. Overall she doesn't seem to be struggling with any of the subject matter. Although I'm assuming that has something to do with the home-tutoring she mentioned?"

He laughs lightly. "It may have helped a bit."

"And her values? They're completely unlike the other children's. She actually got into a debate with another student about _gender roles_. It's almost like I'm talking to a tiny adult sometimes instead of a second grader."

"I try to teach her to look at the world differently." He grins. Perhaps this won't be so bad. "I don't want her to grow up to be like the close minded generation before us."

"I completely understand. Of course, I'm sure she would never grow up to be anything but unique. Just look at your family!"

He may have spoken too soon.

"Sorry," His tone is dangerously apathetic, "I guess we can't all be The Robinsons."

"The Robin-" Understanding hits him like a ton of bricks. "N-No wait!" He leaps up from his chair. "I didn't mean it in a bad way! I-I just meant that you're a very colorful bunch!"

"People tend to think that way."

"I mean that you're all- _shoot_ I-"

"He means you and the people Natsu always talks about. Her extended family I suppose you could say." Yamaguchi's tone is placating. The door closes behind him with a click. "Takeda-sensei didn't mean any offense. But you have to admit, your family _is_ pretty interesting."

His anger slowly gives way to confusion. "Extended family?"

"You know, the mile long list of Natsu's emergency contacts?" Yamaguchi lists them on his fingers. "There's the silver haired guy, and the other man- Daichi I think? And the one with the dyed hair that drops Natsu off sometimes?"

"Kenma," he supplies absently.

"That's the one."

"I didn't mean for you to take it badly," Takeda assures him. "I know about your familial situation, and it's perfectly fine. You're obviously a capable guardian for Natsu."

"I- thank you." Hinata finds himself at a bit of a loss for words. Of all things, he certainly hadn't expected this.

He finds himself not minding.

"I'm glad that Natsu has so many people that care about her." The teacher's eyes shine with sincerity. "Though, do you mind if I ask a personal question?"

At this point, Hinata couldn't care less what this man asks. Natsu has never had a teacher like him. "Shoot."

"Just who _are_ all those people? What's your relation to them all?"

Laughter spills from his lips. "Oh god where do I begin?" Their 'family tree' is so messed up that he barely understands it most days. Explaining it to someone else is practically impossible. "Kenma is my best friend, and a second guardian of sorts to Natsu. He's our neighbor and has been watching out for her for years now. Watching out for both of us really. Umm...lord there are so many people that are part of the family, who do you want to know about?"

"What about Daichi?"

"He's actually my boss, but we're more family than anything. He's sort of like a dad to everyone at my workplace."

"Then who's the one Natsu calls Grandpa Bokuto?"

"Well not my biological father, that's for certain."

"Oh good." He breathes a sigh of relief, glad to no longer have to brood over that confusing situation. That man obviously couldn't be over thirty! Although that raised another question. "Then why...?"

"Is he 'Grandpa Bokuto?' Mostly due to his own idiocy. We're coworkers, technically, but I really do think of him as family. In some ways, he is like a father to me. He has this joke where he calls himself my Dad so Natsu insisted that Bokuto was her grandpa."

Yamaguchi snorts.

"I know! Ridiculous, right? But I love them both, so it's alright."

"So what about the messy haired 'Grandpa Kuroo'?"

"That would be Bokuto's boyfriend."

"And Grandma Akaashi?'"

"Bokuto's other boyfriend."

"I-" His face contorts in confusion. "Huh. Are Kuroo and Akaashi...?"

"Dating? No."

He nods. "I see."

"It's alright," Hinata assures him. "Everyone asks."

"N-No it's not that exactly-"

"Were you wondering about everyone else? It's just more of the people I work with. The gentle giant is Asahi and the energetic loudmouth Nishinoya who comes with him is his boyfriend."

"Not that-"

"Don't be scared of Aone, he's actually a big puppy dog. Well, a big puppy dog that can literally snap your neck, but still."

"That wasn't what I- wait, _literally_?"

"Yeahhhhhh," he shrugs. "Aone has a complicated past."

"Okay, I'm just going to ignore that for the moment. I was actually referring to how Natsu calls Bokuto Grandpa."

"What about it?"

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, he leans back in his chair. "Well you said that he calls himself your dad, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, you're Natsu's older brother."

"What exactly are you getting at?" Caution pricks at the edges of his mind.

"If you're her brother, and he's your 'father,'" he makes air quotes around the word, "then shouldn't Bokuto be her father as well?"

Hinata blinks.

Blinks again.

What?

"I mean, grandparents are by definition the parents of a child's parents. So if Bokuto was Natsu's grandfather that would make _you_ her father."

_What._

"You aren't, of course."

"Of course." His voice sounds foreign, even to himself.

"I just thought it was a little odd. It _is_ pretty funny though."

"You're right." The smile strains his cheeks. "Very funny."

Takeda chatters on, oblivious to the uncomfortable air that has descended over them. "Anyhow, back to Natsu. As I said her grades and social skills are excellent. She has had some trouble with memorizing dates, but it's nothing too serious..."

His words fade into background noise as Hinata ponders the implications of Takeda's earlier statement. Bokuto hadn't suggested that Natsu call him Grandpa. Natsu had _insisted_ when she heard Bokuto say he was Hinata's father. It isn't as if Natsu doesn't understand familial relations, so that means...

He _really_ has to talk to Natsu.

 

oOo

 

"And then the prince said to the Queen-"

"Natsu? BooBear are you awake?"

Kenma glances up from the book, eyebrow raised. "I'm pretty sure that's not what he said."

Natsu smothers her snickering behind her comforter.

"Muffin?" Hinata's shoes click against the floorboards. "Are you here?"

"I'm in here Shou!"

He peaks his head around the doorway. "Hey there Sunshine, I'm surprised to see you're still up."

"And I'm surprised to see you're home." Kenma gives him an odd look. "Weren't you going straight to the club after the conference?"

"I decided to take a detour." Sitting beside Natsu, Hinata perches himself on the edge of the bed. "Did you have a fun time with Bokuto and Kuroo?"

Her head bobs wildly. "It was so awesome! We built a huge pillow fort and made popcorn and marathoned Disney movies! And Grandpa Bokuto _cried_ when we watched Lilo and Stitch."

"Why am I not surprised."

"They brought her home about half an hour ago," Kenma interjects.

Hinata nods his understanding. "Actually I wanted to talk to you about Grandpa Bokuto."

"What about him?"

"Well." Recognizing the look Hinata gives him, Kenma stands and leaves the room. "You know how Bokuto jokes about being my dad?"

"Uh-huh."

"But he's not _really_ my dad." His words are deliberately slow. "Our dad is the man in the pictures I show you."

Natsu looks away.

"And you know," he shifts closer to her, "'that if I _were_ Bokuto's son, then he wouldn't be your grandfather. He would also be your _father_ , because grandparents are the parents of a child's parents."

She remains silent.

"And I'm _not_ your father, Natsu."

Her voice is barely above a whisper. "But you could be."

"I-" He's too shocked to form a coherent sentence. " _What_?"

"I never knew the dad you talk about all the time. I never _met_ him!"

"B-But," No solid argument comes to mind, "he's your _father_."

"He doesn't read me bedtime stories," she insists, sitting upright. "He doesn't take me to school or teach me how to ride a bike. He doesn't do my hair in pigtails or watch movies with me. He's _not my dad_. That's you."

"But I'm not-"

"I don't remember mom, and I know," she adds quickly, "that you don't like to talk about her because you always say she was a really bad person. I just have you. I've only ever had _you_."

"Natsu...I'm not your father."

"You're the only one I've ever known!" She speaks with a vehemence he would've thought to be impossible for her. "I know what big brothers act like. I've seen them in movies and I've seen them in real life. I've also seen what dads act like! I've seen every movie and TV show and dad on the street and the resemblance to you is crazy!"

"DollFa-"

"I never called Bokuto Grandpa by accident. I know what it means." Her voice drops to a lower note as she stares down at her fidgeting hands. "It's because..." She looks up, sincere in a way only children- only Natsu can manage. "I've always thought of you as my dad."

Hinata stares.

And stares.

And stares some more.

Because how the _fuck_ do you respond to that.

He decides on stuttering out, "Y-You have?"

She nods, still looking at him expectantly.

Probably expecting him to say something in return.

_shit shit shit shit shit._

"That's," holy _shit_ "a lot to take in. Thank you for telling me though Sweetiepie." He can't keep the tremors out of his voice or the slight waver out of his smile.

"I wanted you to know."

"And I'm glad I do." Except now he has to _deal_ with it. "Can you-uh- can you give me some time to think about this?"

"Yeah," she sounds less than enthused, "that's fine."

"Hey," Turning her to face him, he meets her eyes. "I love you, more than anything else in the world. I just need some time to wrap my head around this. Okay?"

"Okay," she agrees, smiling slightly.

"Good. Now," He plants a kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight Munchkin."

"G'night."

He tucks Natsu back into bed, securing her underneath the mound of blankets and comforters. The light clicks off behind him, leaving the ceiling a sea of black and glow in the dark constellation stickers. Natsu and him hung them up years ago when she decided she didn't want a nightlight anymore. She said that she was "too big" for that.

It's something she should have done with her dad.

Miraculously, he maintains his composure until he reaches the main area, where Kenma is waiting for him by the counter.

"So," the older male says, pushing himself off against the granite, "that was certainly something."

"Did you hear that?"

"I heard enough."

Thus comes the time to lose his composure.

Hinata buries his head in his hands, wringing his hair through his fingers. "Oh god, oh god, oh _fucking god_ what the _hell_ am I supposed to do?!"

"Hey, it's alright now." Kenma approaches him warily.

"No! It's _not_ alright! She thinks I'm her dad! I can't be a dad!"

"Um Hinata," he raises an eyebrow, "I hate to break it to you, but you've been her dad for seven years now."

His eyes widen. "What?"

"Oh come on. You've raised Natsu her entire life. You've taken care of her, looked after her. It's only natural she'd consider you a parental figure."

"So I should just let her start calling me dad?!" He paces the room. "Tear down the pictures of our actual father-"

" _Your_ actual father." He corrects. "What?" He says, seeing Hinata's shocked expression. "Natsu is kind of right. You're the one who has acted as her father for her entire life. He may be her biological father, but she never knew him."

"Of course she never knew him! But I can't very well explain that to her!"

"You could-"

"No! No I _can't_ tell her about dad's death!"

Kenma falls silent, watching the other with a worried expression. 

"Aggghhh," he groans. The noise resembles that of a dying bird. Hinata stumbles towards Kenma and collapses into his arms, allowing the other to rub soothing circles onto his back as he buries his head against his shoulder.

His lips brush against the younger's forehead when he speaks. "It's going to be alright Shouyou."

"No it's not."

"Yes it _is_ ," he insists, uncharacteristically adamant.

Hinata sighs. "You say that but..."

"But what?"

"How do you explain to a seven year old that their father died before they were even born?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about you guys just take that in for a minute.  
> Yeah.  
> That.  
> I am sorry for the late update, I've been really sick lately. But I did get the chapter out! So let's have a few notes.  
> -Yamaguchi is in this story, yes. Natsu mentioned "Yamaguchi-sensei" in an earlier chapter.  
> -This chapter's title is "All the Red Feelings" by Magenta Lane. It's a brilliant song that really applies to Hinata not just in this chapter, but in general for this story.  
> -Tsukishima's nickname for Kageyama "Milk Lover 2.0. was taken from a glorious headcannon by EchoandTheFandoms. Thanks for letting me use it in my fic!  
> -Tsukishima is also here, and he's friends with Kageyama. I absolutely adore their friendship, so he'll reappear.  
> -For those of you that caught that little but about Tsukishima refusing to live with Yamaguchi...yeah. There is some drama in their relationship that will be explained later. Yes, I now have ideas. Damn this story and all the sequels that are being inspired by it.  
> -Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kuroo's relationship has been explained. At least the bare basics of it. Bokuto is polyamorous and he has two boyfriends. No big deal. How they got to this point and all the shit that came with it will be explained later.  
> -Natsu's feelings about Hinata being her 'dad' are completely reasonable. Think about it- he's the one who raised her, took care of her. She never knew her biological father and she doesn't remember her mother. What would you expect? More of this drama will be faced later on.  
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I have more drama, laughs, and craziness planned, so I hope you guys will keep following the story! Lots of love.


	9. Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby

_7 years earlier_

"Welcome home Shouyou!"

Hinata's shoes are halfway off his feet when the voice grabs his attention. He furrows his brow, momentarily confused, before moving to peer beyond the archway leading into the kitchen. As he expected (and dreaded), standing there is a beaming woman. 

A very pregnant woman. 

" _Mom_ ," Hinata groans, "you're supposed to be on bed rest!" 

She waves away his nagging. "I'll be fine. A little high blood pressure never killed anybody." 

"Yes, it _has_. On many occasions!" 

"Oh, well..." Her smile returns almost instantaneously. "They gave me those meds earlier and I'm feeling great!" 

He crosses his arms, unconvinced. "Uh-huh. Say Mom, can you grab that mug off the counter for me?" 

"O-Of course I can." She turns on her heel, wobbling slightly, but maintaining her assured composure. Stepping carefully, she covers the distance to the counter in five slow steps. Hinata watches, unimpressed, as her hand swipes at the empty space next to the mug. 

"Mom." 

"One sec." She grabs for the mug again, this time hitting it with the back of her hand and sending it spiraling across the tile floor. As its shattered pieces scatter across the kitchen, she offers the teen a sheepish smile. "So maybe I'm not at one hundred percent just yet." 

Hinata sighs heavily, grabbing her forearm. "Let's get you back to bed." 

"But the glass-"

"I'll clean it up later, let's just have you focus on not keeling over." 

Her legs shake as she walks, the vibrations under Hinata's guiding hand a constant reminder of her weakened state. With the laser-pointed focus he's developed over the past months, he pointedly ignores it and leads her to the living room. 

"Oh! I forgot my water!" 

"I'll get it for you Mom," he insists, practically shoving her onto the couch. 

"I can-" 

" _No_ Mom." This was so much more difficult than it should be. After situating her on the sofa, he drags himself back to the kitchen. The remains of the cup litter the floor, broken shards scattered across the ground. At this rate, they'll be reduced to only four mugs.

He sighs, grabbing the broom. Lately, he's made a habit of keeping it close by. His mind wanders as he sweeps, taking him to how he he ended up as a nursemaid. Preclampsia isn't that uncommon during pregnancies, Hinata knows that. He also knows that his mom's spiked blood pressure can be reduced by the medications prescribed by her doctors, but she won't be able to see straight while taking it. Sure, her condition could be easily fixed if she delivered the baby. All she has to do is give birth _four months too early_. 

Yeah, not happening. 

If Hinata could have it his way, none of those doctors would lay a hand on his baby sister, unborn as she may still be. However, since he doesn't have his degree as a midwife, he's stuck making sure his Mom and baby sister stay safe at home. That especially means not letting her wander around the house while on mind distorting medications. Perfectly simple. 

At least that's what everyone who never had to care for a pregnant woman would say. He loves his Mother, but this is exhausting. 

"Shouyou! Come here for a second!" 

"One minute!" Sweeping the pile of shards into his hand, he dumps them into the trash. It's not the safest method, but after practically being a parent to his own mother for the past four months, Hinata thinks he deserves a break. "What's up Mom?" 

Her hand covers her mouth, smothering a storm of giggles. Her phone is cradled between her shoulder and ear, the voice coming through mere static from where Hinata stands in the doorway. It takes her another moment to notice him. "Oh Shouyou!" She covers the receiver with a hand. "It's your Father." 

"Seriously?" He's across the room in seconds, grin splitting his face. "Let me talk to him." 

She laughs, talking into the phone again. "Okay Kadan, I'm handing you over to Shouyou now. Bye Sweetie, love you." 

"Yeah Mom, we get it, now let me talk to Dad!" 

Hinata ignores the mocking face she makes, snatching away the phone. "Hey Dad!" 

_"Hey there Shou! How's my boy?"_

"Exhausted, to be honest." He glances at his Mom. "She's insistent on not listening to the Doctor." 

His laughter crackles over the phone line. _"Sounds like Haru. You're doing a great job of watching after her."_

"Thanks Dad." His feet carry him back to the kitchen, stepping carefully in case he missed any glass. 

_"I promise you that I'll be there to help after the baby is born. I just-"_

"Need to work a lot now to get enough hours to take time off later," His voice is a nasally imitation of the other's. 

He laughs sheepishly. _"Exactly."_

"It's alright Dad, I get it. I'm happy to help." 

_"Well you won't be the only one helping soon."_

"You're coming home!?" 

_"No, I'm coming hom- wait that's what you said."_ Hinata can picture his Dad's pouting face. _"You ruined my big reveal!"_

"Sorry Dad. Would you like to try again?" 

_"No, the moment is gone."_

He grins, "But seriously, you're coming home?" 

_"Yes-sir-ree! I'm taking a few days off work to help out with your mom. That will let you focus on school and dancing."_

"Don't worry Dad, my priorities are in order."

_"Uh-huh. Just how might that list of priorities go?"_

"Mom, Dance, Work, School," He says, as if it should be obvious. 

Static laughter fills the line. _"Why am I not on that list?"_

"Because you aren't carrying a life inside of you?" 

_"Hey, that's my daughter you're talking about! I am responsible for half of that life mister!"_

"Yeah, and with all these extra hours of yours you may not even get to see her birth. Come on, if she pops out and I'm the first guy she sees she may end up thinking I'm her Father." 

They both snicker at that. The idea is ludicrous. 

"Still though, when do you plan on coming home?" 

_"I'm going to try to be there by tomorrow."_

"Oh, you should totally come tomorrow morning before Mom wakes up!"

_"That's a great idea! Don't tell Haru though, I want it to be a surprise."_

"Got it. Operation don't tell Mom is a-go." 

_"I knew I could count on you."_

"But be careful on your way back Dad," he adds, almost as an afterthought. "I heard that the weather is supposed to be really bad." 

_"Careful is my middle name."_

Hinata snorts. "Says your four speeding tickets." He can hear his Dad's protests beginning between the affronted spluttering. Rolling his eyes, he rushes out his goodbyes. "Alright Dad I'll see you soon love you bye!" 

The line clicks dead and Hinata heaves a sigh of relief. He loves his Dad, but he doesn't want to put up with another rant about the unjust police system. 

"Shouyou! Can you grab me some ice cream?" 

Rolling his eyes, he shouts, "Coming Mom!" 

He really can't wait to see his Dad again.

oOo

"That dress is horrible."

"It looks like a trash bag." 

"To be fair, it is _made_ out of a trash bag." 

Hinata and his mom lounge in the living room, feet propped up and a bowl of popcorn between them, watching Project Runway. After realizing during the first few weeks of bedrest that their Netflix que was severely lacking, they'd taking to bingeing a wide assortment of different shows together. So far they've seen all of Sherlock, Baby Daddy, Steven Universe, The Office, Parks and Recreation, and now they are working on season five of Project Runway. 

"How has she remained this long?" Hinata shovels another handful of popcorn into his mouth. 

His mother chews thoughtfully. "Ratings?" 

They both shrug, content to leave the world of T.V. a mystery. Maybe if he ever meets someone famous, he'll ask them about the inner workings of Hollywood. Before either of them can contemplate it any further, Tim Gunn's critic is interrupted by a loud ringing. 

"I'll-" 

"Nope." Hinata reaches across her legs, snatching her phone off the table before she can. 

Pouting, she glares at him. "I can take my own calls."

"Not if it's the hospital." He has been managing her medications since the beginning of the pregnancy. "And look, it just so happens that it is." Although it isn't the hospital they regular. Perhaps their doctor started a new practice? How inconvenient. 

He's already scouting out their new train schedule when he picks up. "Hello?" 

_"Good evening, is this Haru Hinata?"_

"I'll be speaking for her, given that I deal with all of her medical affairs." Giving his mom the 'one second' signal, he crosses away from the sofa to lean against the kitchen doorway. 

_"That's all well and good, but this isn't about Mrs. Hinata. I'm actually calling regarding Mr. Kadan Hinata."_

"What about him?" 

_"Well he was in an...accident."_

He straightens, voice rising a pitch. "What do you mean accident?" 

_"A car accident, specifically. He's currently receiving emergency treatment in our ER, but we don-"_

"I'll be there in twenty minutes." 

_"Pardon?"_

"I said I'll be there." His shoes are halfway on when he hangs up, shoving the phone into the pocket of his sweatshirt. If his dad is in trouble, he has to be there no matter what. 

His mom's voice echoes from the other room. "Shouyou? What did the doctor want?" 

Shit. She can't move now, not while she's heavily medicated and handling the pregnancy. Plastering on a smile, he sticks his head through the doorway. "Oh it was nothing. But hey, Yachi just texted and said that she needs my help. Some sort of emergency." 

"Oh dear. Is she alright?" 

"She's fine, it's just really important that I go." 

"Well then, alright." Her brow furrows in confusion. "Goodbye?" 

He pulls his rain jacket on, speaking urgently. "Don't move too much; try not to leave the couch unless you absolutely have to. You have two water bottles on the table there, also popcorn and the emergency ice cream. I'll be back later." 

"Shouyou you still have my-" The door slams behind him. She sighs, dropping her hand to her side. "Phone."

oOo

The rain beats down on him, tiny bullets being pelted down on his back and face. Hinata had given up on keeping his hood up, choosing instead to focus on maintaining his grip on the bike's handlebars and not running off the road. It's stupid to ride in this weather, he knows that, and it would be better to take the subway. Even if it runs slower at night, it would be safer than being outside.

But he doesn't have time to wait for a train right now.

So he rides on and tries to think about anything other than the reality awaiting him at the hospital. If he lets himself start thinking about it, he may break, or stop, or crack under the weight of everything that's been placed on his shoulders and he _can't_ afford that right now. 

When he skids into the hospital parking lot, he's a full ten minutes ahead of schedule. Car horns blare at him as he weaves in between ambulances and exiting patrons. Hitting the curb, he stumbles off his bike and throws it to the side, letting it crash into the sidewalk. The doors slide open as he sprints through them, slipping into the pristine white waiting room. A nurse startles, fumbling her papers as he slams his hands on the counter. 

"I need to see my father," he demands. "Kadan Hinata, he was admitted here earlier today." 

She stares at him wide-eyed. "U-Um only family can have access to that information. I'll need to see some ID." 

He growls, cursing under his breath as he struggles to pull his wallet from his soggy pockets. The money in there is soaked, but his learner's permit is safe behind a layer of plastic. The nurse scrutinizes it carefully. 

"Okay then, let me just look for him in our system to find out where he is-" 

"He was in a _car accident!_ " She jumps, hands frozen above the keyboard. "They said he was receiving emergency treatment. I need to know if he's okay!" 

She pushes the call button on the intercom beside her, speaking in hushed tones into it. "I need a nurse from the Emergency ward to come out here please. Someone is asking about Kadan Hinata." 

Throwing his hands in the air, he makes a noise of aggravation. "Will someone tell me what the _hell is going on?!_ " 

"I think I may be able to help with that." A dark skinned man in blue scrubs rounds the corner, jogging up to Hinata. "I'm Isao Iwaizumi, one of the nurses in the Emergency ward."

"So you know where my dad is?" 

"Please calm down Hinata. Your father is in surgery at the moment. He was in a serious accident-" 

"How serious? What's happening?" He grabs the taller man by the shirt front, pulling him downwards. 

"Your father is in critical condition. We have him on life support, but-" 

"But will he be _okay_?" 

"Well," Isao searches Hinata's face for a long moment before sighing heavily. "We don't know." 

It's as if he can physically feel the sensation of his heart being torn to pieces.

His hands fall limply to his sides, releasing their hold on the older man. If what this nurse says is true, then his dad could... "When will you know?" 

"Right now things are uncertain. We'll just have to wait and see." He places a hand on Hinata's shoulder. "We will tell you the minute anything happens." 

"Great," he shrugs his hand away, "because I'm not going anywhere." 

"You do realize," he says, disbelieving, "that it's ten o'clock at night." 

"Why should that matter? He _needs_ me." He's desperate, and the feeling must show in his eyes. 

Isao turns away from his gaze, refusing to look at him, but nevertheless saying, "you can wait over there." He gestures to the plastic cushioned seats lining the walls. "I can't make any promises, but we'll do our best." 

And so Hinata waits. One hour turns into two hours turns into three hours, and he loses track of the minutes he sits tapping his toes and pacing up and down the linoleum tiles. The waiting room is devoid of comfort, only a few scattered individuals sitting in the starchy seats, exchanging nervous glances from time to time as they anticipate bad news. 

Hinata imagines this going well. He can picture going home to his mother, apologizing for lying and explaining what happened. She would be shocked, of course, but he would tell her that everything would be fine. He'd say that Dad was recovering in the hospital as they spoke and they would visit him tomorrow morning. She would sigh in relief and smile, and everything would be okay. 

When they visited Hinata's father, he'd be sitting upright in his hospital bed, grinning at them. His hair would be tousled, and his eyes would be ringed with deep circles, but he'd still be laughing. He'd probably crack some joke about "at least now I have an excuse to take time off of work." Then Mom would sit at his bedside and let him make over the baby while Hinata talked to the Doctor about his father's recovery. In two weeks time they would all go home. 

Everything will be fine. 

At least, that is until the nurse comes out and tells Hinata the truth.

oOo

The house is dark when Hinata comes home. Water drips off of him, leaving puddles in the entryway. The motions of hanging up his rain jacket and putting away his sneakers are robotic, a mindless habit he couldn't break if he wanted to. His mind is consumed by only one thought.

How the hell is he going to tell Mom? 

"Shouyou? Is that you?" 

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck._

His voice comes out a hoarse croak. "Don't get up, I'll be there in a second!" 

He runs his hands through his drenched mess of hair, pulling lightly at the ends. His breath releases in shaky pants. He _has_ to hold it together. It's the only thing he can do. 

With newfound determination, he crosses to the living room. The space is lit only by the dim light of the T.V., playing some old-timey super hero movie, and the lamp by the sofa. His mom glances up at him from where she's laying, smiling brightly. 

"Hey there Shouyou, what's up?" 

Hinata stands before her, memorizing every detail he can. Her reddish brown hair is nothing like his own vibrant orange, even if her amber eyes hold a similar glow. She hasn't bothered to wear makeup since the doctor put her on bed rest, but she still has this healthy glow that Hinata fully believes comes with her being the joyful woman she is. In that moment, she looks so bright. 

"Dad's dead, Mom." 

And then the darkness comes crashing in. 

She laughs, startled. "W-What?" 

He squeezes his eyes shut, clenching his fists until his nails cut into his palms. When he speaks, his voice is painfully cold. "He was in a car accident. I just got back from the hospital. They did everything they could-"

"What do you mean, he was in a car accident?!" Her voice takes on a shrill pitch as she pulls herself into a sitting position. "Why would he be driving? He's supposed to be workin-"

"Dad was going to come home tomorrow Mom. He wanted to surprise you." 

"But that's-" 

"I'm sorry Mom." 

She gazes down at her hands, staring blankly. "When did it happen?"

"He was in the ER for three hours being operated on. He died an hour ago." 

"So the call you got..." 

"It was from the hospital, yes." The smile he attempts comes out a grimace. "It just wasn't yours." 

She lets out a choked sob, muffling it behind a hand. Her shoulders shake, the tremors slowly spreading throughout her entire body in steady rolls of sorrow. And then she's crying. Not movie-tears, where the heroine has delicate streams of water that resemble crystals more than actual tears flowing down her cheeks and all her imperfections blotted out, but real-ugly-collapse-to-her-knees-snot-running-red-faced-bloodshot-eyes tears. She falls apart and Hinata can only stand there, watching the wreckage, as he tries to compose his own emotions. 

Her nails tear at her scalp, grabbing hair and skin together as she curls around herself. A torrent of incoherent blabbering streams from her mouth, somewhere between cursing and prayer. The words are too jumbled for Hinata to make out a coherent sentence, but he catches snippets. 

"...Kadan...All my fault...If I hadn't...Why did you..." Her mutterings dissolve into sobbing, once again becoming indiscernible. 

Hinata swallows, willing away the knot in his throat. "It's not your fault Mom. Dad wanted to be there for us, for the baby. He was trying to help us." 

She sniffs. "The...baby?" 

Forcing a smile, he nods. "That's right." 

As if in a daze, she rests her hands on her stomach, staring at her protruding belly. Her voice is barely a whisper. "He wanted to take care of the baby." 

The movement is so unexpected that Hinata almost doesn't believe that it actually happened. It's only when his mom raises her fist the second time, bringing it down on her stomach with a scream of fury does he react. "Mom!" He dives forward, skidding on his knees. He grabs her by the wrist, managing to pin down one of her arms. 

With the free one, she punches her stomach again, screaming, "It's your fault! _It's all your fault!_ " 

"Mom stop!" Hinata throws himself over her torso, shielding her stomach with his own body. She beats at his back, pounding, clawing, and slapping while shrieking at him to get off of her. He tightens his grip, dimly aware of the bruises forming on him. "I won't let you hurt my sister!"

Hinata isn't aware of when he starts crying until his Mom's attacks grow weaker and weaker, eventually stopping altogether. As her arms fall limply to her sides, Hinata allows his shoulders to slump and his grip to relax. The growing wetness on his shirt notifies him that he's not the only one affected by this latest episode. 

"T-The baby," she mutters eventually, voice muffled by Hinata's chest. "If it wasn't for the baby, Kadan wouldn't...he w-wouldn't be-" 

"Mom, it's going to be okay. But I need you to do one thing." Pushing her away, he meets her tearful gaze. "Don't ever hurt my sister again."

oOo

**Kozu**

_so she's sleeping now?_

_yea she passed out a while ago_

_but your dad..._

_I rlly dont want to talk abt it_

_if you're sure_

_can we facetime?_

_id luv to, but i dont wanna wake mom and i cant leave her alone_

_you can't do this alone_

_i kno_

_but you'll try to anyways_

_shes my MOM_

_you're only 15_

_and?? ur only 17, dont start acting all tuff_

_what if she tries to hurt the baby again?_

_what if she tries to hurt herself?_

_ill stop her_

_Shouyou..._

_im gonna make this work Kozu_

_i know. if anyone can it's you_

_but aren't you worried?_

_of course i am!!_

_i dont kno_

_i just have a feeling this will work out_

oOo

It took three years of biding his time, of careful record keeping of anything that could be used as evidence. It took three years of keeping that bastard and mess of a woman away from his baby sister. He had worked his ass off, given up everything, all for this.

When the gavel strikes, it sounds like victory. 

"The court has determined that Haru Hinata is unfit to act as a care provider for her child. Therefore, Shouyou Hinata will become the legal guardian of Natsu Hinata." The judge clears her throat, ignoring the crowd's murmuring, before continuing. "The court has also accepted Shouyou Hinata's claim against Haru Hinata and Renjiro Fujimoto, currently detained, and has accepted his request to file restraining orders against both of them." 

"Haru Hinata." Haru straightens, facing the Judge with her rumpled dress suit and exhaustion lined features, scrounging up her last bits of pride. "From this moment onward, you are forbidden to come within 500 yards of Shouyou Hinata and Natsu Hinata. You may not attempt any communication with them, electronic or otherwise. If you are found to be violating your restraining order, you will be placed under police custody. Do you understand?" 

Her eyes search for Hinata's. "I do." 

"The court insists that Haru Hinata be placed under the care of the nearest mental health ward, to be under the supervision of the hospital. There she will receive treatment for her apparent illnesses." 

Hinata meets Haru's gaze across the court room, his face a mask of apathy. The Judge continues speaking, something about Renjiro being placed under the same restraining order upon his release from prison. However Hinata's attention remains on Haru. Her lips form silent words as tears brim around her bloodshot eyes. 

"I'm sorry," she mouths. 

Hinata doesn't flinch. "Go to hell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That brings us to the end of that. I'm sorry for the late update guys, but I needed to update my other story and this chapter took way longer than I thought it would. On the other hand, it is basically double the length of my usual chapters so...perhaps it all evens out? Either way, I'm sorry for leaving you guys hanging for so long. Now to notes!  
> -The title of this chapter is "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby" by Cigarettes After Sex. I had this song playing a lot while I was writing, and am eternally grateful for it. Plus, it makes for a pretty ironic title.  
> -Preclampsia is a real thing that is experienced during pregnancies, you can look it up. The side effects of the medications can be pretty terrible, but they're also necessary for the baby's health.  
> -For those of you that think Hinata was too cold when telling his mom that his dad had died, think about this: Hinata just sat alone in a hospital for three hours, clinging to the hope that his father would live, only to have to go home and tell his mother that her husband, the father of her child, has died. He's only fifteen. He's grieving right now too. While his pain might not be shown through tears and such, he's still dealing with the fact that his dad is dead. He's not in a state to comfort anybody.  
> -So Hinata didn't always hate his mother! Sometime between his father's death and when he turned 18 (aka the three year time skip from when he was 15) something happened to turn their relationship sour. You'll learn more about that later.  
> -Who is Renjiro? What is his relation to Hinata? Why is he in prison? All will be revealed later. Don't forget about him though, he's important.  
> -When I said Hinata and Kenma have known each other for a long time, I meant it. Kenma has been there through everything.  
> -Kudos to those of you who caught the two subtle character insertions in this chapter because that'll be important later.  
> I hope you guys feel like you know Hinata better, and are excited to learn more about his past. As always, thanks for reading!


	10. Get Sharp

"...ta...nata...Hinata!" 

"Yes! What- what's happening?" 

Akaashi eyes the young dancer worriedly from his vanity, absently twirling a tube of mascara between his fingers. Hinata feels bad for making him worry, but he can't help his distractedness. His head has been filled with questions and worries about Natsu ever since they talked. How is he supposed to concentrate on work with his personal problems weighing on his mind? 

"Are you alright?" Akaashi spins in his chair to face him. 

_No._ "Yeah, I'm alright." Taking a breath, he turns back to his mirror. "I just need to focus." 

"Is there something distracting you?" 

"Nope." 

"Someone?" 

Hinata fumbles his eyeliner. "What?!" 

"That artist friend of yours perhaps? Did you two get along the other day?" He glances at him out of the corner of his eye, smirking slightly. 

"I have hung out with him literally once." 

"Sometimes that's all it takes." 

"I am _not_ having this conversation with you." The gold bracelets encircling his wrists and ankles clink together when he stands. He had gone full "Greek god mode" as the other dancers call it, for today's performance. A gold wreath-like circlet clashes against his fiery orange hair. Paired with the red sheer shawl draped over his shoulders and shorts, his ensemble is true to his stage name - Apollo. 

"Hinata..." 

"Nope, I'm not listening." 

"Hinata." 

"La la la la!"

"Shouyou!" Hinata freezes, his mocking song cut short by the other's tone. Akaashi softens when he meets his eyes. "What's wrong?" 

Sighing, he fiddles with his arm bands. "It's just some family stuff." 

"What kind of-" 

" _Apollo!_ " The booming voice startles them both. "You're on stage in three!" 

"Thanks!" He calls back. Quieter, he says, "I have to go." 

"But-" 

"Don't worry about it, okay Akaashi? I'm fine." Akaashi moves to stop him, but Hinata has already gone in a clinking of bracelets and a shallow smile.

oOo

Hinata loves being on the main stage.

Up there, he could drown in the atmosphere of the club. Neon lights flashing in blinding patterns illuminate the glittering bodies of the other dancers, twirling and grinding to the heavy bass pulsating through the room. The scent of sweat and booze and _sex_ is overwhelming, pungent in the air around him. 

A light buzz fills his limbs, nervousness and excitement coursing through his blood as he waits in anticipation for his call. It may not be a stage at some fancy hall in New York City, but it's a stage nevertheless. He can't help loving it. 

A smile crosses his face. "Showtime."

The previous song is replaced by Hinata's track, the drum pounding in his skull. When he steps onto the stage, the light immediately blinds him- a flood of white, red, and orange. He still manages to throw flirtatious winks and coy grins to the patrons whose attention he's captured, even when the lights begin strobing in time to the beat. Even if he doesn't like it, he is a favorite at the club and has to use that to his advantage. 

_"Ladies, gentleman, and everyone else,"_ Bokuto's voice booms over the speakers, _"The Raven would like to introduce one of our star dancers- the beautiful, the sensual, the ethereal Apollo!"_

Hinata struts to the center of the stage and grips the metal pole, hooking a leg around it and stretching the other out, arching his back as he twirls himself around. The roar of the crowd's cheers is deafening, and he grins victoriously. It'll be a good night. 

_"Our little god has traveled all the way from Olympus to grace us with his presence,"_ Bokuto continues dramatically. _"Be careful though ladies and gentleman. When you get too close to the Sun, you're sure to be burned."_

Hinata lets the red lights flood his vision. He circles the pole once, allowing the music to guide his movements. His hips twist in figure eights, grinding against the pole. Whistles echo when he drops to his knees. Several men have already pulled out crumpled bills, and Hinata moves away from the center stage, crawling towards them. Pushing himself to his knees, he clasps his hands behind his head and begins gyrating his hips in front of them. His seductive grin widens as the bills flutter down around him, several tucked into the waistband of his shorts. The sheer fabric attached to his wristbands flows around him as he dances, giving all of his movements an ethereal quality.

He slides into a crouch and uses his feet to propel him upwards, flipping to a standing position. The crowd goes wild as he runs a hand down his stomach, tracing the outline of his abs. His other hand travels upwards, ghosting along the lines of his outstretched neck until it finally reaches his hair. He pulls on his orange locks as he swivels his hips, releasing a breathy gasp. 

His half-lidded eyes scan the crowd, letting his eyes fall on the patrons he recognizes as regulars and winking at them. Amongst the crowd of strangers and partiers, he spots a head of black hair and shockingly intense blue eyes studying his every movement. 

_Kageyama._

He diverts his gaze quickly, the cheers and whistles of the crowd washing over him as he lets his hand go to the waistband of his shorts. He turns his back to the crowd, looking at them over his shoulder seductively. Their cheers grow as he pulls the shorts down his legs, giving them a view of his toned ass. The tight fabric falls to the ground, leaving him in only a red g-string, the scrap of fabric cupping his dick and leaving his ass bare. 

_'Kageyama is here.'_ The thought echoes in his head, clattering around uncomftorably. His presence shouldn't be surprising: Hinata is the subject of his paintings. 

He's just another customer. 

Hinata kicks the shorts towards the audience, laughing as they grapple for it. The lights have changed again, now surrounding him in circles of gold and orange spotlights. He walks back to the pole, hooking a leg around it and using the other to push him off the ground. He rolls his body to the beat of the music, using his leg muscles to twirl him around as he does so. His thighs tighten around the pole as he lets himself fall upside down. He uses his hands to support him, releasing the his thighs' grip on the metal and flipping off the pole. 

A glance towards the DJ booth shows Bokuto raising two fingers to him, telling him how much time he has left. Bills are covering the stage by now, and Hinata knows it's time to end this show. Part of him wants to search for the artist again, but he forces himself to focus on the performance. 

He circles the pole, gripping it loosely with one hand, moving faster and faster. Once he's gained enough momentum, he hitches his knees around the metal and spins sideways. Hinata waits a moment before he curves upwards and grips the pole with both hands, abdominal muscles clenching as he brings his legs above his body and splays them open wide. He spirals downward, allowing his hair to just graze the floor before flipping upwards. 

His heels click against the ground when he lands. Bills are thrown at his near-naked form as the men surrounding the stage go wild at his performance. Hinata clasps the pole behind his head, sliding down towards the ground as he rolls his hips. 

He thrusts forward, letting a hand cup his barely covered dick. The audience hollers, showering him with money as they rush at the stage. It's an addictive kind of power Hinata has over them; all their lust and desire is almost overwhelming. The feeling is incomparable. 

Dully, he wonders if Kageyama is having the same reaction to his dancing as the rest of the crowd. 

The thought almost makes him smile. 

The song finally draws to a close and Hinata makes his way off the stage and into the crowd. People flock around him, sticking crumpled bills into his G-string or attempting to grope at him. The bouncers surround him before anyone can get too handsy, escorting him to the bar and away from the crazed crowd. He offers them a final wave and smile before collapsing onto an empty bar stool. 

"Rough night?" Nishinoya, one of The Raven's bartenders, pushes a shot glass towards him, leaning against the bar with a grin. 

Hinata likes the short, wild haired bartender. The older male is always quick to give him a drink after performances and tells wild stories that make him a customer favorite. Even so, he's not one that you can really confide in. While he may be a good listener, he's not very good with "all that emotional bullshit," as he so eloquently puts it. 

So Hinata avoids the question. "Good haul," he says instead. Several of the bouncers are already clearing off the stage, putting the cash littering the ground away to be given to Hinata later. 

He'll be on again in half an hour. 

Hinata downs the shot, letting the vodka burn his throat. 

"I'd certainly hope so," Nishinoya laughs. "You're a crowd favorite y'know."

He hums in lieu of response. He knows that he's popular. It's something he takes a secret bit of pride in. Of course, he'd never tell anyone that. To be proud of being a stripper seems a little ridiculous to him. 

"Excuse me?" 

Hinata swivels on his stool, feeling a finger tap against his bare shoulder. A red haired male with down turned eyes and a lazy grin stands there, eyeing him. Something like disappointment pushes at his chest, but he can't discern why. 

"I watched your performance up there," the stranger says. "You were amazing." 

"Thanks." He knows what's coming next. 

"I was hoping that we could go somewhere a little more private?" The red head pulls out a wad of bills, holding them out to the dancer. 

_Predictable._

Hinata turns to Nishinoya quickly. "Don't worry," the bartender says, giving him a tight smile. "Daichi isn't here tonight." 

Hinata almost sighs audibly in relief. He can feel Nishinoya's eyes on him when he turns to the ginger with a grin. "I think that can be arranged," Hinata purrs, snatching the cash out of his hand and counting it quickly. 

"Great!" The man practically beams, grabbing his hand. "My name is Tendou." 

Hinata almost rolls his eyes. Who gives their name to a _stripper?_ But the guy has already paid him, so Hinata plasters on a smile. "Well then Tendou," he croons, "come with me." 

The buzz that had filled his being hardens into a stone at the pit of his stomach. He ignores the ugly feeling, focusing instead on the lingering burn of vodka and pulling the stranger along behind him. He pointedly ignores the pair of pitying eyes trained on him from the bar. 

_Predictably._

oOo

Kageyama couldn't sleep last night.

When he had finally gotten home after hours spent at The Raven being pushed and prodded by the swarm of other patrons, the artist had collapsed onto his bed. The plan had been to sleep until noon, recharging before his next meeting with Hinata, but a small problem had arose. The image of the dancer's twisting body, illuminated by the stage lights, had been painted onto the back of his eyelids. Everytime he searched for rest, the dancer sprung back into his mind, jolting him awake. 

After an hour of restlessness, he had stolen some of Suga's medical textbooks in an attempt to bore himself to sleep. However the complicated words and graphics had only served to make his head hurt, and he quickly cast the books aside. When exhaustion had finally taken him, he was flooded with dreams of Hinata twirling around that damn pole or grinding his hips or his perky ass when he pulled off those shorts. 

The circles under his eyes in the morning shined prominently against his pale skin. Oikawa had taken a photo. Suga had offered him a mug of coffee, giving him a pitying smile. 

Kageyama is through his fourth mug of the stuff by the time Hinata shows. 

"Hey there Kags!" Hinata chirps when the black haired male slides open the door. The dancer wears a pair of faded overalls over a white T-shirt. Patches cover the knees and pockets, a multitude of bright colors and different patterns. A yellow belt circles his waist, matching the array of different colored wristbands- mostly strings braided together, but also a few leather and rubber ones. He's wearing flip flops even though it can only be about 50 degrees outside. Either he has no sense of temperature or no self preservation. 

"Kags?" An image of Hinata's glittering bare skin under the stage lights flits through his mind, and he shakes his head to clear it away. 

"It's a new nickname." Pushing his way into the apartment, he tosses his messenger bag onto the couch. "Since you aren't so fond of YamaYama-kun." 

The door slams shut behind him. "I don't think anyone would be fond of such a ridiculous nickname." 

"Would you like me to try something else? Kagaroo? Kageyam? Bakayama?" 

Kageyama isn't sure whether to laugh at the absurd nicknames or punch the shorter male. "How about we stick to Kageyama?" 

"How about no?" His grin is teasing, amber eyes glinting mischievously. "So what are we doing today? Do I get to leap off your couch some more?" 

"Actually I'm almost done the first painting. I just need to finish adding some color and I'll be done." He pulls the covering off of the easel in the center of the room, revealing the partially finished work. It displays Hinata in mid jump, his arms spread above his head, legs tucked behind him, and back arched as he suspends in the air. His hair is like flames, his bare skin a mess of yellows and oranges as if it were crafted from pure gold. The most impressive piece of the painting, however, is the pair of wings made of pure fire erupting from his back. 

Hinata's eyes widen to the size of saucers as he gazes at it. "Oh my god..." he whispers, his voice hushed in awe. A hand reaches out towards the easel, but withdraws at the last moment. "This is _beautiful_." 

Heat blossoms on his neck and cheeks. "I-It's nothing really." 

" _Nothing?!_ " Hinata spins to face him, motioning wildly. "This isn't nothing! This should be in a museum, o-or a gallery, or..." He trails off, breathless. When he looks to Kageyama, he's practically glowing. "You really are amazing." 

The words hang in the air between them. 

Oh no. 

_Ohhhh_ no. 

Oh _no no no no no._

Kageyama has to tear his eyes away from the smaller male, unsure of what will happen if Hinata keeps looking at him so reverently, as if he really _is_ amazing. The room feels hotter, or perhaps his skin is merely burning with the heat of his blush. Everything is too bright and too much, and Kageyama is in desperate need of a distraction. 

"I'm going to do the background in shades of pale yellow. I thought about doing black, but I think a lighter color will look better since your coloring is pretty dark in this painting." He can't stop rambling, hands fumbling with his paints in a desperate search for something to occupy himself. "Do you like the gold skin? I thought about doing your actual skin tone, but then decided to try making things more interesting." 

"I look like a living flame." 

"I-" Kageyama pauses, surprised at the comment. Hinata is still eyeing the painting, but his awe has faded into a more subdued appreciation. He's smiling slightly, as if there's some joke there that Kageyama isn't getting. "Yeah. That's sort of what I was going for." 

Hinata steps back, and Kageyama immediately misses his warmth. "So what's the next painting going to be?" Perching himself on the arm of the couch, he sways back and forth unsteadily. 

"Well it's supposed to be a series," he grabs a paintbrush, dipping it in the correct color. He's using watercolors for the sky to achieve the faded look he wants. "So I'm going to make the paintings tell a story. The first one is sort of like a take off, so the next ones will be you in flight. I want to do a back view for the second one so that we can get a full view of the wings." 

Hinata nods in understanding, trying to follow. "So what exactly do you need me to do?" 

"I'll tell you how to pose when I start sketching." 

"Until then I just...hang out?" 

Careful brush strokes slide across the canvas, leaving pools of color in their wake. "I'll be done in a few minutes." 

Hinata falls silent. Kageyama focuses intently on his work, letting the silence soothe him. He has to be careful not to let the colors blend, or it'll ruin the careful detailing for the wings. If he can just- 

"So what's your favorite food Kage-kun?" 

His grip on the brush tightens. "Pork curry, why?" 

"Really? I've always preferred eggs on rice. Oh, though I also like pork buns." 

Kageyama hums in lieu of response. The wild haired dancer had done this during their last session too: rambling on and on about anything and everything. Apparently he isn't one for silence. 

"You know I have a nice sound system in my apartment. It was a gift from my friend Kenma. You'd love him, although he either works for the CIA or has been destroying them for years." 

_What?_ Kageyama stifles a laugh, nodding along. 

"He sort of gets me most of my tech stuff. He's a total dork, but I love him. Is that anything like you and your roommates?" 

"Nah. I hate Oikawa and Suga is my mom." 

"...I see?" 

A silence stretches on for a minute, and Kageyama feels strangely compelled to fill it. "But Oikawa helps me manage all my social media. He helped me create the Instagram and Tumblr for Royal Arts, and worked with me to improve the blog. He's helped me get where I am today." 

"So you can't _really_ hate him?" 

"Oh no I can," Kageyama assures him. "I just _also_ owe him." 

Hinata laughs, and the sound is like honey and wind chimes and Kageyama physically roots himself to the ground in an attempt not to turn and stare. "So when did you start painting?" Hinata asks when his chuckling has subsided. 

"As long as I can remember. My parents saw how much I enjoyed it when I was little and from then on they started buying all sorts of fancy art supplies for me. The rest is history." 

"Are they supportive of you being an artist?" 

"Definitely. They're worried about how I'm gonna make money and all, but they've supported me since the very beginning." A smile ghosts across his lips as he thinks of his mom and dad. He should give them a call. 

Silence again. Worry pricks at the edges of his mind, that talking about his own family has made Hinata upset. He knows that his dad is dead and his mom is...well he's not sure, but it definitely isn't good. That was so insensitive, going on like that. How could he do that to Hinata? He should apologize immediately before-

"Psssst." Snapped out of his reverie by the harsh whisper, Kageyama glances up. Messy orange hair and amber eyes peer over him from above the canvas. "Kageyama," Hinata whispers loudly. 

"What?" He mimics the other's tone, raising an eyebrow. 

An arm slowly emerges from behind the easel, rising until its extended fully. Hinata's mouth appears as he stands on his tip toes. He brings his hand down, lightly hitting Kageyama on the head. "No thinking like that." 

"I wasn't-" 

"You were thinking bad things about yourself." He glares. "That's not allowed."

It's ridiculous, really, that someone he has met on three occasions would actually go so far as to hit him to make him be more positive. It's even more ridiculous that he would even know the dark turn Kageyama's thoughts were taking, or how bad he was starting to feel. 

It's ridiculous how he nods in agreement. "Okay." 

He can tell Hinata's smiling by the crinkling around the edges of his eyes. "Great!" His face disappears, and almost instantly he comes twirling out from behind the easel, a small tornado of orange and yellow and sunshine. "So are you done yet?" 

The background has been painted, and the pale yellow compliments the golds and fiery reds nicely. There's nothing more he can do, nothing more he really wants to do. He's happy with it, so it's time to move on. "I think so." 

"Can we get started then?" 

"Sure." He leans the finished painting carefully against the foot of the couch to dry, grabbing a blank canvas from beside him. "I have to sketch first, so I'm gonna need you to pose." 

With exaggerated movements, Hinata salutes him, popping a hip out. "Shouyou Hinata, reporting for model duty sir!" 

"At ease. Now I'm gonna need you to turn your back to me and hold your arms out to make a T shape." 

"You know if I didn't know any better, I'd say this entire project was just a ploy for you to get a look at my ass." 

This time Kageyama lets himself laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM! Take this chapter! It's up on a Saturday for once I'm not late. I'm ridiculously happy about that, so excuse the jumbled nature of my notes.  
> -This chapter's title is "Get Sharp" by The Limousines.  
> -Remember in chapter 2 when Hinata and Daichi had a serious conversation? If you don't, you may want to go read it again. It ties to this chapter and makes a lot of things clearer and a tad more shocking.  
> -The dancing scene took time, effort, and part of my soul. While my search history needs to be cleared, I think it turned out decent for my first time writing a scene like that. Give me your thoughts.  
> -Kageyama is an adorable small child that needs to be protected at all costs. He cannot handle Hinata. He really can't.  
> -More to be revealed on Kageyama's parents later! I have a whole backstory planned for them and I hope you guys love it as much as I do.  
> As always, thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! My next few updates may be late and/or very sporadic because of my busy summer schedule, but I'll do my best to stay on track! Love you guys lots!


	11. Tongue Tied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama is a mess and learns something new about Hinata.

Hinata sips his glass of milk tentatively. Exhaustion weighs heavily on him, slumping his shoulders and pulling at his eyelids. Natsu watches him from across the table, munching on her cereal. 

"Shou?"

"Hm?" He glances at her through his lashes, still painted with last night's mascara. 

Twiddling the spoon between her fingers, Natsu bites her lip, hesitant. "Have you thought about that thing we talked about the other night?" 

He pauses, glass raised to his lips. It clinks against the table as he sets it down. "I have." 

"And?" 

Her expression borders on terrified. Hinata takes her in: wide, darting eyes only a shade darker than his own, hair pulled up into pigtails (that Hinata did himself) and her favorite shirt on that Hinata had gotten for her. Cereal he poured and bought because she's going through a phase where she'll only eat Frosted Flakes for breakfast. It was better than her phase where she'd only eat peach slices on bagels. And the phase where she ate French fry tacos, and the phase where she wore rain boots with every outfit, and every phase before that _he_ helped her through because _he_ has been there _every day of her life._

_She's right_ , Hinata realizes. _I'm the one who raised her._

So maybe she's not his biological daughter. He still loves her and would do anything for her. Even if that means letting his sister call him dad. 

"If you really feel this way-" Hinata's words are slow, deliberate, and he struggles not to let his hesitation show- "then you can call me whatever you please. I love you Natsu." Deep breath. "I just want you to be happy." 

Her smile is so broad that it's practically splitting her face; Hinata doesn't- can't regret a thing. "What if I call you Shou-dad for now?" 

"Yeah," he grins. "I'd like that." Scooting his chair closer to Natsu's, Hinata throws an arm over her shoulders and kisses her head with an exaggerated "mwah!" 

She laughs around a mouthful of cereal. "Gross!" 

"You're gross." Shoving her lightly, he pushes himself out of his seat. "Now come on Sunflower, you're gonna be late for school." 

They rush through the rest of the morning, Natsu gulping down her orange juice on their way out the door. She climbs onto Hinata's back quickly, slinging her own backpack over her shoulders. Hinata always worries about losing Natsu in the city's crowds, so he decided to start giving her piggyback rides when they walk to school. He knows that he's being paranoid, but he doesn't want anything bad to happen to her. 

"One day you'll have to let me walk on my own," Natsu says, swinging her legs. 

"And let you run out and get hit by a car? Sorry Buttercup." Hinata pushes open the door to Natsu's classroom with his hip. "Today is not that day." 

"Natsu! Hinata!" They turn as Yamaguchi approaches them, smiling. Several flowers are scribbled on his forearm with marker, no doubt the work of the kids giggling by the art table. "It's so nice to see you this morning." 

"Good morning Yamaguchi-sensei!" Natsu crawls down from her perch, smiling brightly.

"And how is my favorite student?" Yamaguchi kneels slightly to meet her gaze. 

"Great! Shou-dad helped me put my hair up in these super cute pigtails. See?" 

"Very cute." He shoots Hinata a meaningful glance. "How about you go show your friends over there?" 

She nods excitedly. "I'll see you later Shou-dad." 

"Remember, Akaashi's picking you up today. You two are going to the zoo with Bokuto." 

"Kay!" Rising on her tiptoes, Natsu throws her arms around Hinata's neck and kisses him on the cheek. "Love you!" 

"Love you too, Bumblebee." Hinata manages to ruffle her hair lightly before she's off running towards a group of kids trying to race stuffed animals down a Hot Wheels track. 

"So..." Yamaguchi raises an eyebrow. " _Shou-dad_?" 

Heat rises to Hinata's cheeks. "It's complicated." 

"I'm not judging or anything, if that's what you think," he assures. "I'm just glad that you two have worked things out." 

"You knew?" 

"I had a feeling." 

Obviously Natsu's teacher is more perceptive than he appears. Hinata isn't quite sure how to feel about that. "So did Takeda-sensei bring the whole dad thing up on purpose or...?" 

"Oh gods no; he doesn't have a clue about those sorts of things. Honestly I was pretty embarrassed for him." He laughs good naturedly, as if he deals with the other teacher's antics quite often. 

Hinata decides he likes the assistant teacher. Yamaguchi seems nice enough, and so far has accepted all of their family's quirks without judgment. Plus he's never said a word about how Hinata looks in the morning- his hair mused and beaded, the previous night's makeup smudged around his eyes, and a sweatshirt thrown haphazardly over his pajama shorts (basically, a hot mess)- something the dancer appreciates immensely. 

"So how did you end up as a teacher Yamaguchi?" 

"Assistant teacher, actually. I'm getting my teaching degree at the moment and this was one of the requirements for it." Glancing over at the kids, he smiles fondly. "I enjoy it though. Even if it means having to take out my piercings all the time." 

"Piercings?" 

"Oh yeah," he grins. "I have a bunch. Three in my right cartilage, two in my left, four on my left lobe and three on my right. I only keep the pair in though." He motions to the studs in his ears. "I also have spider bites, and a barbell on my eyebrow. The only ones I keep in for class are my navel and tongue." 

Hinata laughs, disbelieving. "You have a tongue piercing?" 

"You think I'd lie to you?" He sticks out his tongue playfully, showcasing the silver stud. 

"Yamaguchi, you went into the wrong business." 

"Teachers can have piercings!" 

"But not that many."

"Looks like I'll be the first then." The bell rings from the hallway, signaling the beginning of the day. "That's my que. It's been nice talking to you Hinata; I don't know many people my own age in the area." 

"Then maybe we could hang out sometime. Y'know," Hinata averts his eyes, suddenly bashful, "if you wanted to." 

A grin splits his features. "Sure. Sounds like fun." 

Hinata leaves the school smiling, a skip in his step. It's been too long since he's had a friend outside of work. Even when he was in highschool he never had any close friends. (Except for Kenma, of course, but even then he had to drive three hours to see him in person.) After he had to quit his dance team and start juggling four jobs, he stopped having time for friends. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Besides Kenma, he did have one other friend. Until...

He shakes the thoughts away, scowling. _'You did what you had to,'_ Hinata reprimands himself. _'Regretting it won't help anyone._

oOo

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear that. What did you say?"

Kageyama looks away, refusing to meet Hinata's gaze. "Could you please tamdnkoffkurshfrt." 

Hinata raises an eyebrow. "Kags I can't understand you if you mumble." 

"Um..." His face burns scarlet, the color rising to his ears. 

"Omg just tell me already!" 

"Can you please take off your shirt!" Kageyama's eyes widen as he realizes how loud he yelled. He slaps a hand over his mouth. 

Hinata blinks owlishly at the blushing artist, head tilted. 

Then he bursts out laughing. 

"What?" Shame boils in the pit of Kageyama's stomach, unable to shake the feeling that the dancer is laughing _at_ him. 

"It's just," Hinata wheezes, " _that's_ what you were embarrassed about?" 

His cheeks grow hotter. "Th-That's something most people would be embarrassed about dumbass!"

Hinata smirks at him, chuckling. "You do realize you're talking to a stripper, right?" 

"I-" Kageyama huffs. "Just take your shirt off." 

"With pleasure." Grinning lecherously, Hinata tosses his shirt to the side. "So did you just want to gaze upon my awesome body or what?" He rolls his hips exaggeratedly with a laugh. 

"The second painting is a back view, remember? So I need to see your back." 

"Mhm." Hinata waggles his eyebrows suggestively. 

His scowl threatens to morph into a smile. He hides behind the canvas before Hinata can see. "Just turn around already." 

He returns his attention to the painting, tracing the lines of Hinata's muscles onto the canvas. _His body and wings should be surrounded by a halo of white,_ Kageyama decides, dipping his paintbrush. _Then I'll fade into a darker yellow at the edges. Then if I add some blue flames at the wingtips and--_

"Alright Kags-" Kageyama is snapped abruptly out of his thoughts by Hinata's voice- "if you were stranded on a desert island, what are the three things you would bring?" 

"I'm not gonna answer that." 

"Aw come on," Hinata pouts. "We're gonna be here til, what, 5? That's either hours of awkward silence or hours of fun conversation." 

"In that case, my vote's for awkward silence."

His laughter is bright and clear, seeping into the artist like drops of sun. "Personally I'd bring a bottle of scotch, a solar powered phone with all my music on it, and a giant rubber band." 

He pauses, brush raised. "I know I'm going to regret asking, but _why_?" 

"The rubber band is for my eventual escape via human slingshot, and the scotch and phone are so that I can have a beach dance party." 

"Why would you need a whole bottle of scotch?" 

Glancing over his shoulder, Hinata looks him over critically. "You're not a big drinker, are you?" 

"I don't think anyone else counts that as a negative." 

"I can name almost twenty." 

"Do they all work at The Raven?" 

"Yep." He grins, unashamed. "Now stop holding out and tell me what you'd bring to the island." 

This time, Kageyama fails to hide his smile. "Alright, fine, fine."

oOo

"Wait, wait, wait. You're telling me you only live here because you got drunk at a party and haven't bothered to leave?"

Snickering, Kageyama leans his head back against the sofa's armrest. "It sounds ridiculous when you say it like that." 

"It sounds ridiculous no matter how you say it Kage-kun." 

Hinata lounges upside down in the chair, the tips of his hair brushing against the carpet. With his legs draped over the backrest and the blood undoubtedly rushing to his head, Kageyama has no idea how he's managing to look so comfortable. Kageyama started out sitting upright, but has devolved into sprawling over the couch, head tilted toward the dancer. 

It took hours of Hinata moaning and Kageyama growling under his breath and occasionally yelling, "stop moving dumbass!" but the painting was finally finished. All that is left now is a few touch ups after it dries. Kageyama told Hinata that he could go home early, but the dancer had merely shrugged and taken a seat before bombarding Kageyama with questions. 

They have been here for an hour now. So far Kageyama has learned that Hinata adores sunflowers and bike riding, has zero technological skills, and can cook just about anything. (A nagging voice in Kageyama's brain insists this is somehow a sign. Kageyama pointedly ignores it.) 

"Why would you even want to move out of here? This place is awesome." 

"You haven't met my roommates." 

Hinata giggles. "Where are they anyhow?" 

"Suga is at the hospital right now. Apparently his residency program is transferring him from pediatrics to the ER, so this is his last day there before he becomes nocturnal. And Oikawa is..." Actually he isn't sure where Oikawa is. He hasn't seen him all day. "Probably at a photo shoot or something." 

"It must be fun being a model."

"You could do it." Hinata shrugs, lips down turned. "So I have a question-" Sensing the oncoming solemn mood, Kageyama quickly changes the topic- "what's with all the nicknames?" 

He contemplates this, tapping his chin. "I guess I just like giving people nicknames. It makes things more personal, y'know?" 

"Not everyone would think that's a good thing." 

"Making friends is never a bad thing." 

Hinata's gaze is trained on his toes, the nails painted gold. Wiggling them, he watches the light catch on the sparkly polish. A small smile tugs at his lips as he drops his arms, letting his fingers brush the carpet. He hums absentmindedly, more out of habit than anything, and the tune is reminiscent and bright. Kageyama feels a tug on his heartstrings. 

"Are we friends?" 

The question catches Hinata off guard, but not as much as it does Kageyama. He berates himself mentally, dreading and anticipating the other's answer. 

"Of course we are Kags. What kind of question is that?" 

His heartbeat stutters to a halt. 

"Uh, you good there Kageyama?" 

"Yeah," he says, grinning goofily. "Never been better." 

The look Hinata gives him is confused, but fond. "You have a nice smile Kage-kun." 

Before he can respond to _that_ (a part of him thanks the universe for the well timed interruption) a light rapping sounds from the door. "One second." Kageyama hurries away as Hinata flips off the seat, watching curiously. 

They knock again as Kageyama undoes the absurd amount of latches on the door. "Alright, alright," he says, heaving it open, "don't get your panties in a--" 

"DAD!" A ball of color barrels past Kageyama, sending him reeling. He watches, slightly horrified, as the colorful comet leaps onto Hinata, giggling. 

"Hey there Fruitcake, how's my baby girl?" As Hinata pulls her off his chest, Kageyama identifies what he once believed to be Earth's first sentient meteorite as a little girl with wild orange hair, identical to Hinata's own. 

"Awesome! Grandma Akaashi took me to the zoo and Grandpa Bo _and_ Grandpa Kuroo were there. And Bo was really excited to see the owls and--"

"Breathe Natsu." Kageyama turns his attention to the man in the doorway smiling softly at the pair. He recognizes him, faintly, from when he visited Hinata at The Raven to offer the job. Even without makeup, the other dancer is eerily gorgeous. Kageyama's fingers twitch, wanting to sketch.

"Um..."

The dark haired man turns his attention to Kageyama, tilting his head slightly. "Oh, sorry. I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Akaashi." 

"Kageyama." He mentally facepalms. "But you already know that don't you? Uh, sorry." 

Akaashi smirks. "It's a pleasure to see you again. Hinata has spoken very highly of you." 

"H-He has?" 

"Is this the art guy you told me about?" Kageyama jumps. A pair of wide brown eyes peer up at him from under orange fringe. The little girl, Natsu, frowns. "He's tall." 

"Don't be rude, Natsu," Hinata admonishes, picking her up. "Kageyama, this is the prettiest girl in the world-" Natsu giggles- "Natsu." 

"You're so dramatic Shou-dad." 

"I get it from you." 

"No _I_ get it from _you_." 

Their conversation fades into background noise as Kageyama stares, openmouthed. He quickly assesses their similar wild hair, matching smiles, bright eyes: his mind looping the same thought over and over. 

_Did she say dad?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back! Sorry I've been MIA all summer. I actually just got back to my home state a week ago. To commemorate the end of summer, I've changed my name! (Do you like it?) Now without further ado, onto some notes.  
> -This chapter's title is "Tongue Tied" by Grouplove.  
> -Please please please understand Hinata's decision here to let Natsu call him dad. He just wants her to be happy.  
> -This old friend of Hinata's is important. Can you guess who it is?  
> -Kageyama is a train wreck.  
> -Natsu is aware that Akaashi is a boy. She just took one look at him and said "you're more of a grandma than a grandpa." and that was that.  
> -Someone recently asked me if I am okay with fanart. Oh my goddess yes, yes I am. Nothing would make me happier. I'll love you forever.  
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I'll be doing regular updates from here on out. In other news, I may be beginning a new Haikyuu Bokuroaka fantasy type story soon. Watch out for it!


	12. The Night Starts Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama is an idiot. Oikawa is an ass. And Natsu is smarter than she seems.

"So do you want to meet up again tomorrow, Kageyama?" 

"Um..." His gaze darts rapidly between Hinata's smiling face and the small girl clinging to his pant leg. "Y-Yeah! That'd be great." The words sounded forced, even to his own ears. 

Either Hinata doesn't notice or is too polite to comment. "Awesome. I'll see you then." 

"Bye Mr. Kageyama!" Natsu chirps. 

Hinata smiles bashfully as he hurries her out the door. "Come on Akaashi," he murmurs. 

"Coming." The older male stares at Kageyama, hard. He doesn't drop his (slightly frightening) gaze until the doorway separates them. A curt nod goodbye is all Kageyama gets before Akaashi is slamming the door shut, leaving Kageyama to gape after them blankly, thoughts shrouded in a haze. 

The silence of the apartment is suffocating as he tries to process what just happened. That little girl called Hinata Dad. Does... Does that mean... 

"HINATA HAS A DAUGHTER?!?" 

Kageyama screeches, tripping over himself in shock at the unexpected voice. He spins around just in time to see Oikawa scramble out from behind the curtain of beads blocking his room, wide-eyed and messy haired. 

"Oikawa?" Kageyama exclaims as the older male marches towards him. "What the hell are you doing here?!" 

"Got home late; ended up sleeping in. More importantly, what's this business with that girl?" 

"Were you here this whole time?" Did he see Kageyama making a fool of himself in front of Hinata? Oh god he does _not_ have the mental capacity for this right now.

"Kageyama!" He grabs the shorter male by the shoulders, glaring. "We have more important things to discuss than your general awkwardness and massive crush." 

"My wha--"

"The point is, was that little girl Hinata's daughter?" 

"How should I know?" 

"You two are friends, right?" 

"I-I don't know. That doesn't mean I know everything about him." He isn't sure if he knows anything about Hinata anymore. "Wait, but Hinata is _my_ age."

"And?" 

"Well that girl looked about six or seven, so that means he would've had to have had her when he was..." He counts the difference on his fingers. "Twelve years old?" 

"Fifteen, Kageyama." 

"Oh. I knew that." 

Oikawa rolls his eyes. "So he had a kid when he was young, big deal. The real question is- does this mean he's bi?" 

Ice swept through Kageyama's veins. "What if he's straight?" 

"What? No. My gaydar has never been _that_ off." 

But the thought had rooted itself in his mind. He begins pacing the room anxiously. "Oh god he's straight and he just works at the club for cash and it's easy to work at a gay club when you're straight, right? And he probably thinks I'm a total creep--"

"Why would he think that?" It sounds as if he already knows the answer. 

"Because--" Kageyama stops himself. Why _would_ Hinata think that? "Because..." 

Because Kageyama likes him. 

_Fuck._

He _likes_ Hinata. 

"Fuck," he says again, threading his fingers through his hair. He flops forward onto the sofa, releasing a high pitched whine into the couch cushions. 

Perching on the edge of the seat, Oikawa rubs soothing circles on his back. "There, there, you poor gay child. Uncle Oikawa is here. Just let it all out." His comforting tone is negated by his shit eating grin. 

Kageyama groans. Whether Hinata was straight or not, "I'm so fucked."

oOo

"So how'd your time at the zoo go today, Starfish?"

Natsu skips a few feet ahead of Hinata and Akaashi, skirting over the cracks in the sidewalk. "It was so much fun! We got to see all sorts of cool animals, and it turned out Grandpa Bokuto _and_ Grandpa Kuroo were there." 

"I see." Hinata glances at Akaashi from the corner of his eye. "And did you have fun, Akaashi?" 

"It was...nice." Hinata raises an eyebrow. That's probably the most positive thing Akaashi has ever said concerning Kuroo. "We spent time together as a group, and Koutarou and I spent time together, and I spoke with Kuroo some too." 

"And did Kuroo and Bo hang out on their own some?" 

"They did." Natsu eyes them curiously as Akaashi considers his words. "And it was fine." 

It's strange not to see Akaashi jealous or nervous when talking about Kuroo. It's strange to see Akaashi _talking_ about Kuroo. The other male was dating his boyfriend for Pete's sake. Hinata could understand Akaashi's fears of being completely overshadowed or replaced. But since Akaashi loves Bokuto and Bo loves Kuroo, he could never ask Bokuto to choose between them. 

It seems hard to date someone who's polyamorous, especially when that someone is as magnetic as Bokuto. Hinata is constantly awed by how much Akaashi must love Bokuto to try so hard for him. 

"What did you and Kuroo talk about?" 

"Nothing in particular. Classes, the club..." Akaashi shrugs. "He makes a lot of cat puns." That startles a laugh out of him. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing." A grin pulls at the edges of his mouth. "I'm just glad you two are starting to get along." 

Akaashi's response is almost too quiet to catch. "Me too." 

Almost. Hinata knocks his shoulder into the older male's. A small smile finds its way onto Akaashi's own lips as he stumbles, skidding his sneakers against the curb. Their steps fall into sync as silence, comfortable and familiar, descends around them. 

Ahead of them, Natsu grins wildly.

oOo

"Did you know Kageyama put a photo of you on his website?"

Hinata scrunches his features in confusion, tossing his coat onto the rack. The door closes behind him with a resounding bang. "What?"

Kenma clicks away at his laptop from his seat at the kitchen counter, a scowl pulling at his lips. "Well it's not really a photograph, more like a portrait, but he posted it to his blog." 

"Let me see." 

He turns the screen towards Hinata and sure enough, there it is. The new section in Royal Arts contains photos of the paintings Kageyama has been working on with Hinata, displaying their progress. There are several photos of the first finished piece in the series posted there too. At the bottom of the page is a pencil sketch of Hinata smiling with the caption, "Thanks to Shouyou Hinata (dancer and model) for inspiring and modeling for this new series of paintings. I couldn't have done it without you." 

He can't help but be a little touched. "Aw, how sweet." 

"Sweet?" Kenma says the word like it's poison. "Did he even _ask_ you if he could post this?" 

"Ken, he's just giving me credit for helping with the paintings." Although he does wonder when Kageyama took the time to draw that portrait. 

"It's an invasion of privacy!" 

"Calm down. It's not like he said I was a stripper on the site." Hinata frowns, closing out of the tab. "What has you so worked up about this anyways?" 

"People could see that, Shouyou. Bad people." 

"You worry too much." 

"And you worry too little." 

"Look Kozume, I don't want to have this argument. It's just a picture, alright? Besides, it's not like anyone is going to see it." 

Kenma scowls. "I hope you're right." 

"I always am." 

He wasn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so long to post, I was having some trouble with it. I'm not entirely sure if I'm happy with it, but it's here. Anyhow, on to some notes!  
> -This chapter title is "The Night Starts Here" by Stars.  
> \- This is where more plot starts developing. I hope you guys are excited.  
> \- Is anyone interested in Akaashi/Kuroo/Bokuto's relationship? Because I'm thinking of making a separate fic for it.  
> -Natsu is smarter than she seems.  
> -Kageyama is an idiot.  
> -Oikawa is an ass.  
> -Kenma needs a hug.  
> And I need coffee.


	13. Army

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama learns more about Hinata. Suga is a master thief.

Hinata hums along to the light-hearted melody pouring from his earbuds. The crowd of people bustling past him is heavy, as it always is in the city, but comforting in their constant companionship. The streets always seem...darker when he's alone. Perhaps that's just his paranoia talking though. 

Readjusting his duffle bag, Hinata turns the corner to his favorite morning pick me up. _Crow Café_ is a strange name for a coffee shop, but it's always been his favorite place to go. Maybe it's because of the similarity to the club's name. Or maybe it's just because they make a damn good latte. 

The door swings open with a chime as Hinata steps into the cozy shop. Dark colored sofas are pushed against exposed brick walls, with a scattering of round tables clustered in a corner. Hinata takes a deep breath, savoring the scent of ground earthy beans and melted chocolate. Smiling softly, Hinata steps into line behind a tall black haired fellow wrapped up in multicolored scarves. 

"Can I have an Alaskan with whip please?" 

The barista snorts. "You know it's practically no longer coffee at this point, right?" 

"Just make the damn drink, Tsukishima." 

Hinata pauses, pulling out his earbuds That voice sounds oddly familiar. Is that..."Kageyama-kun?" 

Kageyama turns around with a glare, an insult on the tip of his tongue, before he meets Hinata's eyes. The dancer can practically see the venom drain from his features. 

" _Hinata?_ " 

A laugh bubbles out of him. "Omg! Hi there!" Hinata wraps his arms tightly around Kageyama's neck on impulse, giggling as the taller male flails. "What are you doing here?" 

Kageyama releases him slowly. "Putting up with piss poor customer service."

"Fuck you." The blonde barista flips him off while continuing to pour drinks. 

"Can I assume you two know each other then?" 

"Sadly, yes," Kageyama sighs. "This is Tsukishima, an...acquaintance of mine." 

"So your friend." 

"I wouldn't go that far," Tsukishima interjects.

Kageyama snorts. "He's been working here ever since we started college." 

"Oh really?" Stepping onto his tiptoes, Hinata leans onto the countertop. "What are you studying, Tsukishima?" 

"Paleontology." 

"Don't you need a PHD for that?" Hinata shudders at the thought of what those student loans would look like. 

"Yeah it does. That's why Tsukishima here has been doubling up. He's doing a ten year course in five years." 

"Seriously?" 

"Do I look like I wanna work in this place my entire life?" 

"That's amazing!" Tsukishima startles as Hinata leans closer. "I mean, not only are you studying to become a scientist, but you're doing double the work. That's just..." His eyes sparkle, "wow." 

Heat crawls onto the blonde's cheeks. "Yeah, well...I couldn't let those other assholes in four year programs get too much of a headstart on me." He clears his throat. "So what can I get you?" 

"Doesn't Kageyama have to pay first?"

"I'll just put yours on his tab." 

"Hey!" Kageyama glares. 

"In that case," Hinata snickers, "I'll have a chai tea latte with soy milk."

"Coming right up." 

"I never get that kind of service," Kageyama grumbles as Tsukishima turns his attention to the drinks. 

"That's because you're friends. It's your job to harass each other." 

"Then I guess that explains why all my friends are such dicks." 

Hinata giggles, unaware of the other's eyes glued to him. "Thanks for the drink, by the way." 

"It's not a big deal." His cheeks stain pink. "You could always make it up to me by," cough "drinking it with me?" 

"Um...What?" 

"I mean- um, what I meant to say was-" Kageyama takes a breath, squeezing his eyes shut. "Would you like to sit down and have coffee with me?" 

Hinata blinks at him, caught off guard by the question. It was oddly sweet of Kageyama to be so embarrassed about that. "I'm actually on my way to my dance studio to practice." 

Kageyama deflates. "Oh." 

"But," he amends hastily, "you could always walk me there." 

It takes a moment for Kageyama to process Hinata's words, but he visibly brightens when he does. "Yes! I'd-um- I'd love to." 

"When you two are done ogling each other-" Noticing their close proximity, they step apart at the sound of Tsukishima's voice- "your drinks are ready." 

"Thank you Tsukishima." The cup is warm in Hinata's hands, and the feeling travels throughout his body. 

Kageyama pays hastily, exchanging insults with Tsukishima as he does so. Their banter brings a smile to Hinata's lips. It's strange how different friendships can be for others. He couldn't imagine having the kind of love-hate-snark relationship that Kageyama and Tsukishima appear to have, but perhaps Hinata's relationship with Bokuto or even Kenma would seem strange from an outsider's perspective. People are different in every aspect of life, whether that be appearance or friendships. 

"You ready to go?" 

Kageyama's voice pulls him from his musings. "Mhm. It was nice meeting you Tsukishima." 

"Same to you." 

Kageyama holds the door open as they walk outside together, the crisp wind of Fall a stark contrast to the cafe's warm interior. Hinata shivers. 

"Are you cold?" 

"Cold? In this weather? Why I feel as if I'm in Florida." 

Kageyama rolls his eyes. "Do you want my jacket?" 

"I have a jacket," he says, motioning to the thin athletic jacket thrown over his tights and tank top. "Besides, then you'll be cold." 

"At least take one of my scarves." 

"Oh definitely, you have hundreds of those," Hinata laughs, tugging at the ends of one. 

Kageyama lifts it over his head, muttering, "At least I dressed appropriately." 

"Oh? Are you calling my clothing innapropriate?" His grin is lecherous.

"N-No! I just-for the weather..." He huffs. "Oh you know what I meant." 

They lapse into silence. Hinata observes Kageyama from the corner of his eye, taking in the frown pulling at his mouth, the edge of bangs brushing against his nose, the curl of his fists jammed into the pockets of his bomber jacket. He takes in Kageyama, contemplating. 

Kageyama breaks the stillness. "Hey Hinata?" 

"Hm?" 

"You, uh-" He scratches the back of his head, fingers twitched nervously. "Tell me more about yourself." 

That's unexpected. Hinata eyes him curiously. "Not much to tell, really. What brought this on?" 

"It's just, well, what would I tell the police if you ever get kidnapped? I mean, I could give them a photo but it would help if they knew your favorite coffee shop, or your hometown, or the name of your first pet, right?" 

"Firstly, I don't see how any of that information would help in that scenario. And secondly, if I ever go missing _you'll_ be the prime suspect." 

His expression is aghast. "You think I'm going to _kidnap_ you?" 

"Of course not," Hinata laughs. "But if I ever am kidnapped, Kenma will automatically suspect you." 

"Kenma?" 

"A good friend of mine. And my neighbor, but he basically lives with me at this point. He's been there for me for, well..." Hinata stares off wistfully, "forever really." 

Kageyama clears his throat. "Are you two, um..." He interlocks his hands, trying to convey his meaning. 

"Together?" Kageyama nods. "Oh no, Ken would never think of me like that. What made you think such a thing?" 

"Well it's just that with you two being so close and you being you and all--"

"What do you mean by, _'me being me and all?'_ " His eyes narrow, one eyebrow arched critically. 

"N-N-No, I didn't mean like that--"

"Like what, Kageyama?" Hinata steps towards him. "As in I'm a whore?" 

He's close enough that their chests are pressed flush against each other. Kageyama's face burns. "I didn't- I didn't mean--"

Hinata laughs. He steps away, dissolving the tension in a heartbeat. "I'm just messing with you Kags, no need to be so nervous." 

Kageyama remains supported against the wall for a beat, trying to slow his racing heart. "You should consider acting." 

"Sorry, but that doesn't really pay the bills." 

"I thought you liked dancing." 

"I do. I-" Hinata's gaze drops. "I wanted to go professional one day." 

Kageyama thinks of Natsu and all the responsibilities that must come with her. "You still can." 

"Perhaps." His smile is doubtful. "Oh, this is my stop." 

The low brick building is unassuming, except for the faint sounds of piano and feet falling against the wooded floor. The lobby is visible through the large windows, in which a secretary paints her nails distractedly. 

"I guess I'll see you at our next session?" 

"Yeah," Kageyama's shoulders slump, "see you then." 

Kageyama drags his feet as he walks away, clearly disheartened. Hinata bites his lip. He'd once again managed to avoid talking about himself. It should feel like a victory. 

But he only feels lonely. 

"Kageyama!" 

He turns around, dark eyes meeting Hinata's in confusion. 

"Crow Café." 

Kageyama scrunches his nose. "What?" 

"Crow Café. It's my favorite coffee shop." He exhales. "I grew up on the outskirts of Torono. And I've never had a pet." 

Turning away quickly, Hinata runs into the studio before Kageyama can utter a word in reply.

oOo

"What do you think he meant?"

Oikawa peels open an eye to glance sideways at Kageyama. "What did who mean by what?" 

"What did Hinata mean by telling me those things about himself?" Kageyama sags into the Hollywood style makeup chair next to Oikawa's own. 

"Probably that Crow Café is his favorite coffee shop, he's from Torono, and he's never had a pet." 

"I mean _besides_ that." 

"Kageyama," Suga leans against the arm of his chair, "you're overthinking this." 

The makeup artist snickers slightly at their banter, listening in as she contours Oikawa's face. The bustle of the studio is a low hum around them as the camera crew and director prepare for the photo shoot Oikawa's starring in. It's some new clothing brand, with a mod pastel kind of vibe. Kageyama grimaces at the crowd. 

"If you weren't willing to listen to my problems, why did you bring us here?" 

"Moral support, obviously." The makeup artist finishes her work with a flourish, bustling over the design crew. They swoop in like hawks, fussing over Oikawa's clothes. "I have to work with He Who Shall Not Be Named." 

Suga cocks his head. "Voldemort?" 

"Worse- Ushiwaka." 

"Isn't his name Ushijima?" 

"Jerks don't get names," Oikawa huffs. The horde of designers scurry away, leaving Oikawa in tight cropped white jeans and a grey turtleneck covered by a pastel pink overcoat with a paneled collar. "So how do I look?" 

"Like you're compensating." Ignoring Oikawa's squawk of indignation, Kageyama continues his earlier musings to Suga. "I know it's small, but he opened up to me. Does that mean he wants to get to know me better too? Does it mean he's interested?" 

"Does him answering your earlier question before running away mean that you'll ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after?" Oikawa rolls his eyes. "Don't be so naive Kage-kun." 

Suga slaps the brunette upside the head. "What Oikawa meant to say, if he wasn't too busy being an ass, is that you should give it time. Don't try to rush things between you and Hinata." 

"But what if--"

"Shut up Kageyama," Oikawa hisses. His eyes narrow dangerously. " _He's here._ " 

Strutting through the studio is who Kageyama assumes is the infamous Ushijima Wakatoshi. His dark hair is slicked back from his caramel skin. He wears pristine black dress pants and vest over a lilac button up, carrying a suit jacket over his shoulder. A posse of men and women in similar business dress trail behind him. 

_Oikawa was right, he does look like a prick._

The Mean Girls-esque posse stops in front of them. _Are they posing?_

Ushijima surveys Oikawa, ignoring Suga and Kageyama entirely. "Hello Oikawa-san. You're looking lovely as ever." 

"Go fuck yourself," Oikawa growls. 

Ushijima is unfazed. "Quite. Shirabu-san will be working with you today." A solemn faced brunette ( _it's more copper,_ Kageyama's inner artist insists) with choppy bangs steps forward, eyes downcast. "I think you two will make a good match." 

Kageyama examines the contrast between the models. Whereas Oikawa is all sharp angles- high cheekbones and hard lines of muscle and bone and stress- Shirabu is softer- rounded edges and wide eyes. Kind of like a human version of Bambi. Even if their coloring is similar to Oikawa's, the two make a good pair. 

The ashy blonde male standing next to Shirabu notices Kageyama's staring and immediately moves to block the shorter model from view. Now _there's_ a more distinct contrast. Kageyama's fingers itch for his sketchpad. 

"I have no need to _match_ with _your_ people." 

"You could've done great things with my agency."

"Thanks, but I'm great all on my own." 

Ushijima sighs. "You should've come to Shiratorizawa." 

"I have no desire to work with your power-obsessed ass," Oikawa hisses. "Now stay the hell away from me." With a final hair toss, Oikawa turns on his heel and struts away. Kageyama and Suga share a look before mimicking his actions and hurrying to catch up with their overdramatic friend. 

Once they're a safe distance away (i.e. Out of ear shot) Oikawa releases a small screech of frustration. "I hate that guy." 

"What did he even _do_ to you?" Kageyama glances back at the Shiratorizawa team, watching the blonde man lean over to speak with Shirabu and Ushijima. 

"Besides being an asshole?" Oikawa smooths his hair, attempting to collect himself. "I actually applied to work with the Shiratorizawa agency when I was younger. They were so famous, and I thought that being with them would make me famous too." 

"So what happened?" 

His shoulders slump. "It's just...they aren't close. It's all business with them. The models and agents don't try to build each other up, but tear each other down for their own gain. And the ones that aren't power hungry? They're just...off. Like that Shirabu kid." 

Kageyama wants to ask what he means, but is cut off by the director yelling, "Places everybody! Oikawa, Shirabu, over here now please!" 

Shirabu has been put into a complementary piece to Oikawa's, with a crimson slit sleeve sweater, white shorts, and peach thigh high boots. They pose with Oikawa against various backgrounds: a New York street, a classic car, etc. As the models are switched in and out of various outfits, Kageyama begins to understand what Oikawa had meant by "off." Kageyama can't really place it at first as he watches them, but the pieces slowly come together. It's the little things, like the exhaustion evident in Shirabu's eyes even if the dark circles are covered by concealer. It's the unsteadiness in their walk, and how loose the sweater is on them. 

It's how Kageyama can see their ribs when they change into a new shirt.

There's a pang in Kageyama's chest once he realizes the implications. Suga has noticed it too, and he can tell that Suga's inner mom wants to shove a burger down the model's throat. A part of Kageyama still simply wants to draw them. (He reminds himself that this is a _person_ , not just subject material.) 

Suga eventually sighs, nudging Kageyama that they should leave. Kageyama agrees readily. A distraction is in order. 

Luckily, there is a lot of trouble two twenty-something year olds can get up to. 

It takes a few hours for the photoshoot to finish, and Oikawa eventually finds Suga and Kageyama racing each other in rolling chairs down the hallway. 

"Is this where you two ran off to?" 

Suga spins by him, giggling. "We actually spent an hour trying to see how much food we could steal from the snack table before getting yelled at." 

"I got shrimp!" Kageyama proclaims, holding the bag of seafood aloft. "And Suga got two veggie trays, a meat and cheese platter, and a crock pot full of meatballs." 

"Please tell me you didn't steal a crock pot." 

Suga drapes his torso over the pot, shielding it from view. "Okay then." 

"I hate you both." 

"But we will eat for weeks!" Kageyama's declaration is accentuated by his chair flying out from under him, sending him tumbling to the ground. 

"OI!" 

They swivel their heads in time to see a burly security guard jogging towards them. "You're the assholes who stole all the food!" 

Suga grabs their wrists. "We might wanna run."

"I HATE YOU BOTH," Oikawa shrieks as Suga pulls him along, dragging Kageyama behind them. 

The guard yells after them, his heavy footfalls echoing in their ears. As Kageyama struggles to his feet, distinctly aware of Suga's joyful cackling and Oikawa's loud cursing, he struggles to stand, much less keep up with his bounty of shrimp weighing him down. Dark worries of getting caught or tripping or any number of scenarios claw at the edge of his mind. 

He grins, and pushes them away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW HEY IT'S BEEN A WHILE. So I'm sorry for going MIA for a month, but I got caught up working on my novel and screaming about things. But I am back!! With my new schedule, updates will be strange, but I'm trying to get into the habit of posting twice a month! (Good, right?) thanks for sticking with me guys, and I hope you'll continue reading! Now, some notes!  
> -This chapter title is "Army" by Boy. (I listened to it on loop while writing this chapter.)  
> -Tsukishima is studying to be a paleontologist because he's a godamn nerd.  
> -Tsukishima and Kageyama are actually best friends they both just refuse to admit it as a matter of principle.  
> -The Alaskan is an actual drink in an actual coffee shop called "Play it Again Sam's." If you ever find yourself in Chestertown, I highly recommend it.  
> -Torono is actually the town where Karasuno High School is said to be located in the anime/manga, so I just used that for Hinata's home town.  
> -Guest appearance by the Shiratorizawa crew.  
> -So for those of you freaking out about Shirabu: I don't know why I made them non binary I just did. Also they're canonically really self conscious and constantly pushing themself to be better (high-key self esteem issues amiright) and I figured that as a model, that would probably come through in various ways. Namely, an issue many people struggle with, I.e. An eating disorder. Also I know they're said to be super hot headed, but they come off as very innocent and collected, so it wasn't really appropriate for them to be flying off the handle around people they barely know. I'm not quite sure if I'm going to continue developing the Shiratorizawa gang or not. I'm kind of getting interested in it, but I guess it depends how hyped you guys are for more spin offs.  
> -Also the blonde guy who's really overprotective of Shirabu is Eita Semi.  
> -Suga, Kags, and Oikawa can't cook for SHIT of course they're stealing food whenever they can.  
> -I personally believe that Kageyama shows several signs of an anxiety disorder in the cannon, so I make that a cannon element in my fics. I hope you guys appreciate the little nod to it at the end.  
> The next chapter is already in the works and I hope to get it up later this month! Stay tuned!


	14. Boris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone is looking for Hinata.

Hinata sprawls across a beanbag in The Raven's dressing room, staring blankly at the ceiling. His first break of the evening had been cancelled after one of the other dancers had called in sick, so he had planned to savor the small relief for his feet. However, he felt antsy being away from the floor, as if he could _feel_ himself losing money. 

"You good over there Shorty?" 

Hinata glances up to glare at Kuroo where he's leaned against the makeup table. He's thrown a shirt (reading 'I've GATO get my life together') over his spandex shorts, letting it fall loosely across his thin frame. In lieu of reply, Hinata flips off the other dancer. 

"Yikes. Someone's feeling grumpy today." 

"Go easy on him Kuroo-" Akaashi doesn't bother to look up from his book- "His teenage angst is acting up." 

_That_ catches his attention. Hinata sits up, scrutinizing them. "Did you just double team me?" 

"He's reverting to the 90s, 'kash." 

"Oh my." 

"Did you just call Akaashi, _Kash_?!" Hinata cradles his head in his hands. "My god, the end has finally come." 

Snickering, Akaashi pads over to lounge beside Hinata. "Come on now Shou, it can't be that weird to see us getting along." 

"On a scale of the color beige to X-Files, it levels at Gravity Falls." 

Kuroo snorts. "You really need to stop watching those kids shows." 

"I'll have you know that Gravity Falls is quality fucking television you heathen." 

Akaashi's laughter is quiet enough that they almost don't hear it. Keen as ever though, Kuroo immediately spins around with a devious grin. "Look at that! You finally laughed!" 

"At your expense." 

"Oh admit it Kash," flopping down beside him, Kuroo drapes himself over the other, "you love me~"

"Do I? Damnit, they were right. I have lost my mind." 

The two continue bickering, Kuroo poking and prodding as Akaashi tries to hide the smile creeping on to his features. It's odd, seeing them get along. Nice too, as baffling as it may be. After years of _whatever_ it was between them, it seems as if they've become...friends? Maybe? Hinata's not sure if that would be hoping for too much. 

Backing away, Hinata makes his way towards the door. "I'm gonna go back to the floor; try and scrounge up some extra cash. I'll see you guys-uh, later." 

Hinata scurries out the door, ignoring their calls, and slams the door shut behind him. His breath leaves in a huff. _That was too weird._

"Oh, hey Shou!" 

_Oh, what now?_ Bracing himself for the worst, Hinata is pleasantly surprised to meet Bokuto's gold eyes. 

His scowl morphs into a grin. "Hiya Bo! Did you need something?" 

"Not really, I was just coming to see if my baes wanted to have a drink with me before they're back on." His eyes shine at the mention of Akaashi and Kuroo. It's almost sickening how in love he is. 

The cuteness factor, however, outweighs the Hallmark-level grossness. "I'm sure they'd love that." Those two have been...oddly non-hostile lately. "By the way, did something... _happen_ between Akaashi and Kuroo?" 

Bokuto's brow furrows. "Why do you ask?" 

"It's just," he bites his lip, "they used to be at each other's throats. And I know--" he continues before Bokuto can interject-- "that you've never wanted to admit that but, let's be real, they didn't get along." 

Bokuto raises a hand, ready to object, then seems to think better of it. "Yeah," he sighs, "you're right." 

"But now," Hinata thinks back to the interaction he just witnessed: the smiling, the casual contact, "it's almost as if they're...friends." 

"I know right?!" His smile is broad and glittering; it catches Hinata off guard. "I don't know what happened, but they're getting along! Maybe eventually we can all--" Pausing, he shakes his head. "No, nope; I can't get ahead of myself. Just be happy with this, Bo," he coaches himself. 

A grin tugs at the corners of Hinata's mouth. It's good to see Bo doing so well. "I'm happy for you guys." 

"Me too," he sighs happily. 

Hinata remembers when he first met Bokuto. He remembers finding him during closing hours curled up in the dressing room, Kuroo's arms wrapped around him as he cried into the other's chest. He remembers sitting outside the door, listening to the muffled sobs in the silence of the club. Hinata remembers the Bokuto before he got help. 

Honestly, Hinata doesn't think he can convey just how happy he is for him. 

"Oh, Hinata," he's snapped out of his reverie by the other's voice, "there's a guy looking for you outside." 

"What for?" 

Bokuto averts his gaze. "He was asking if you did, um... _private_ shows." 

Hinata deflates instantly. "Yeah..." Shoving aside his disappointment, (Kageyama was far too much of a nerd to ever ask him about _that_ ) he plasters on a professional smile. "I'll go see him right away." 

He turns on his heel with a wave and a smile, ignoring Bokuto's worried frown. His steps echo in the hallway as he returns to the club's main floor. The air is thick, the once provocative scent seeming sickly to him now. The bass thuds in his chest besides his heartbeat. His lungs feel heavy, his head light. 

"Apollo, isn't it?" 

The voice crawls over his skin, like lines of ice on his back. He turns, taking in the older man's pleasant smile and lewd gaze. Hinata's grin never wavers. "How can I help you?" 

"Oh in quite a few ways darling," he chuckles. Extracting a wad of bills from his pocket, the man offers the money to the dancer. "How much time can I get for this?" 

Hinata thumbs through, counting quickly. Part of him can't help but feel ecstatic at the amount of cash. The other half is disgusted with the former. "Quite a while, sir." 

"Oh how delightful." He hooks Hinata's arm through his own, gently pulling him towards the private rooms in the back. "I can't wait for us to become...better acquainted."

Hinata swallows the bile rising in his throat. "Same here."

oOo

**Asshole Tsukishima**

_Hey dumbass._

_Are you there?_

_Ugh._

_It's fucking cold._

_Where the hell are you?_

_I'm in your apartment. Jesus Oikawa should stop giving out keys._

_Do you idiots actually have lives or something?_

_I always figured you'd just lay around your apartment moaning about emo shit._

_That's your whole "thing" right._

_Dumbass._

_..._

_Kageyama?_

_I'm sorry._

_I really need to talk._

_Please._

oOo

Kageyama wanders through the downtown streets, letting the crowd push him along. A thin layer of snow blankets the ground, and it crunched underneath his boots. Shivering, he buries his hands deeper in the pockets of his bomber jacket, hiding his face in the scarves covering his neck.

 _I wonder what Hinata's up to._ His thoughts had been drifting to the dancer quite often lately. The piece of his head that usually would've argued that he _should_ be thinking about him because he's Kageyama's model, _obviously_ is uncharacteristically silent. He wonders how far gone he must be if even his own anxiety ridden brain isn't denying it anymore. 

He considers, briefly, going to The Raven, if not to see Hinata then only to observe him. Kageyama wonders what will happen when his art project is finished. Will they part ways and never speak again? Will Hinata want to talk if Kageyama's not paying him? Was Kageyama's sense that they were becoming friends just a desperate attempt to quell his rapidly developing feelings for the dancer? 

_Get out of your head, Kageyama,_ he berates himself. His breath fogs the air as he exhales heavily, trying to get a handle on his rampant thoughts. He wishes that he could simply flip a switch and turn off his brain. Life would be so much easier if-- 

"Excuse me?" 

Startled out of his thoughts by a tap on his shoulder, Kageyama spins around to face the speaker. A blonde girl, somewhere around his age, with harshly bobbed hair and a peach peacoat kneels before him, struggling to catch her breath. She glances up at him, eyes wide and red around the edges with smudged makeup at the corners. _An office worker?_

"Um..." _What the fuck._ "Can I help you?" 

"You're," huff "Tobio Kageyama," huff "right?" 

His eyes narrow warily. "And you are?" 

"Oh, yes! Sorry," she flails, straightening and dusting off her coat, "I totally forgot to introduce myself. What an airhead, right?" She exhales slowly, collecting herself. When she meets his gaze again, the bumbling girl has been replaced by a strikingly serious woman. "My name's Hitoka Yachi. I heard you know where I can find Shouyou."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since there's a break coming up I'll probably be posting over the holidays, so be on the lookout for that. ALSO I have officially made this a verse! You can read the other fics in this verse by following the link at the end of the story. Now, some notes.  
> -This chapter's title is "Boris" by Boy.  
> -I'm probably going to write some Kuroo/Akaashi/Bokuto centered one shots for this verse. So please read them!!  
> -It's cannon in my verse that Bokuto has depression.  
> -It was so gross to write that scene between Hinata and the stranger ew ew ew.  
> -We'll hear more from Tsukki in the next update (hopefully).  
> -Remember Yachi? I mentioned her in chapter 7.  
> I hope you guys enjoyed this update!! Stay tuned for more.


	15. Tender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past is complicated. So are emotions. Nothing, however, is more complicated than people.

Kageyama isn't good with people. 

Yachi fidgets behind him, twisting her hair and fingers into knots. Her eyes dart around the hall. She flinches at every bang and crash. The reaction almost catches Kageyama off guard- he forgets that most people aren't used to this kind of neighborhood. 

He unlocks the door with a click, sliding it open. "I'm home," he calls (more out of habit than anything.) 

"Then get your butt over here and help me!" 

He pauses in the doorway, Yachi peering curiously over his shoulder. 

Suga is halfway between the kitchen and sofa, struggling to drag what appears to be a drooling Tsukishima. "What the fuck." 

"Kageyama you ass," Tsukishima's head rolls back, his words slurring together. "You're in big trouble mister." 

"Is he--" Glancing to the sofa, he takes in the bottles scattered across the coffee table and amber liquid splattered on the floor-- "Holy shit you're drunk." 

"'S not true." 

Suga manages to drag him to the sofa, propping him up against the front. "He's been here since four. I need _sleep_ Kags; I don't have the energy to put up with this." Sure enough, without Tsukishima draped over him, Kageyama can see the older's blue scrubs. He probably just got back from the night shift. 

A tentative voice pipes up from behind. "Um, is this...a bad time?" 

Tsukishima lolls his head towards the doorway. “Who za fuck err you?” 

Yachi is pale, whether from fright or the cold outside Kageyama isn’t sure. She takes in the scene before her with wide, doe-like eyes. “I’m, um, Hitoka Yachi.” 

“She knows Hinata,” Kageyama supplies. 

“We’re old friends.” 

Something ugly whispers at the back of Kageyama’s brain. “Close friends?” 

“Very.” 

“He’s never mentioned you before.” 

Her eyes widen, impossibly, before falling to the floor. “It’s been a long time.” 

He examines her for a long moment as she fidgets underneath his scrutiny. He huffs, annoyed at the lack of answers and the steadily rising amount of questions. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a minute.” 

As she settles in (the word ‘settle’ is used to loosely described how she sits, straight-backed, on the very edge of his sofa) Kageyama goes to assist Suga. Tsukishima reeks of booze and his glasses are probably under a cushion somewhere and despite the overwhelming amount of jeers he could make, Kageyama bites his tongue. Suga lifts the lanky man by the armpits while Kageyama handles his legs. The two of them maneuver him, albeit not without struggle, into Kageyama’s bedroom, where they deposit him on the bed. 

“Thank god.” Kageyama watches the energy visibly drain from Suga’s body, even his silvery hair seemingly dulling under the shadow of exhaustion. “I’m going upstairs.” His feet drag against the carpet. Kageyama makes a mental note to make an extra pot of coffee in the morning. 

Kageyama shuffles around the art supplies littering his bedspread, trying to make enough space for the other’s too-long limbs. Tsukishima grabs his wrist, halting his actions. “Oh what do you want?” 

“Kageyama…” The ravenette tenses. The previous drunken giddiness has been replaced by solemnity. He almost has to pinch himself to confirm the tears welling up in the other’s eyes. “It’s Yama...he--” He hiccups, complexion tinging green.

Kageyama grabs a trash can, placing it between him and the line of fire. “How about you tell me in the morning, yeah?” 

Tsukishima sniffles, burps, and promptly pukes.

“Okay buddy.” Kageyama pats his back stiffly, nose scrunching. He stays there for a few more minutes, waiting for the blonde to settle, before he goes out to see Yachi. 

“Is everything alright?” She eyes him anxiously as he sits near her.

“Yeah, he’s just under the weather. More importantly,” he leans back, trying to look imposing. “I’m curious as to what you’re doing here.” 

“Well...This is gonna sound a little shady.” 

Kageyama raises an eyebrow.

“But it’s the truth! I swear,” she says hurriedly. “Shouyou and I used to be really good friends back in highschool. But when he was 18, he moved away from our hometown and cut off contact with me.” 

“And you can’t take a hint?” 

“No! Look.” Fumbling through her purse, she pulls out her phone to display the portrait of Hinata Kageyama had posted to his website. “I decided to leave him alone. I didn’t agree with what he did to his mom--” 

“What he did?” 

“Well, more like how he handled the situation. I mean, I know that she was horrible to him after his dad’s death but he’s so adamant about her being a terrible person even though--” She stops herself. Takes a breath. “We argued before he left. I wanted him to try to make up with his mom after she got help and instead he filed a restraining order.” 

_Holy shit,_ Kageyama thinks. _Just what did she do?_

“I’ve always felt bad about it and when I came across this picture on your site, I figured it might be the only chance I’ll get to make things right.” She turns sharply, startling him with the newfound intensity in her gaze. “Please. I need to talk to Shouyou. He’s...He’s my best friend.” 

Something about her pulls at his heart. Maybe it’s the romantic in him, maybe it’s the way she says Hinata’s name, or maybe it’s just the burning curiosity that alights at the prospect of learning more about the dancer’s past. He knows what Suga would say. He knows what Oikawa would say. But neither of them are here, and Kageyama is feeling appropriately moved. 

“I’ll help you.” 

Her smile is all teeth, squishing the rest of her features. “Thank you so much!” 

“But I’m not doing anything Hinata doesn’t want, and I’m not pulling some scheme. I will text him in the morning to confirm your story and ask if he wants to meet you at a public location. If he says no, then that’s it. Hinata’s feelings are what’s most important here. If you try to track down his home or work or do anything against his wishes, then I’m calling the police.” 

“Yes of course.” She’s...giddy. It’s an odd look on a twenty-something woman in a pant suit. “Let me give you my number.” 

She shakes his hand at least four times before leaving, thanking him profusely. Kageyama is pretty sure that she’ll find a motel in a different part of town, given her...unease in his building. Her expression shifts between excitement relief fear thank you and something Kageyama can’t quite place. Apprehension? Guilt? Regret? Anxiety immediately fills her place once she’s gone. What if she’s lying? What if she’s a stalker? What if she’s a serial killer who wants to steal Hinata’s skin? What if Hinata hates him for getting involved?

What has Kageyama gotten himself into?

oOo

"You're late."

The door closes behind Hinata with a click. He can feel Kenma's eyes burning into his back, but he takes his time toeing off his heels and locking the door-- a poor imitation of nonchalance. When he faces the other, Hinata makes sure to school his expression into one of careful apathy. 

"I have some crazy hours. You know that." 

"Cut the shit, Shouyou." His tone borders on anger, a rage barely contained in his white knuckled fists and gritted teeth. "Who were you with?" 

"I don't think that's any of your business." 

His fist shakes the counter. Hinata startles, finally meeting Kenma's gaze. (He's reminded of a gold-eyed beast.) "Who. Were you. _With?_ " 

"It's not a big deal--"

"Fucking Christ--"

"A customer, okay!?!" Hinata matches his volume, the shout scratching against his throat. His chest boils with an emotion he can't place, but needs to release nonetheless. "Is that what you want to hear? You already know, so why the fuck would you ask?!" 

Pushing away from the counter, Kenma paces the room. "You can't keep doing this Shouyou." 

"What else am I supposed to do?" 

"I don't know!" His voice slips into desperation. "Anything else?" 

"Oh sure, let me just go get a job for NASA. Oh wait--" He's angry now, sarcasm bleeding into rage. "That would require me to go to college. Which, you know, I can't _afford!_ " 

"That's not what I meant and you know it." 

"What did you mean then?" 

"That I don't want you _whoring_ yourself to everyone in the city with some _pocket change!_ " The words are out before he can stop them, and by the time Kenma realizes what he's said, the color has drained from Hinata's face- rage leaking out onto the floor and leaving behind a silent grief. 

"Yeah." When he speaks, it's barely a whisper. "You're probably right." 

Kenma reaches out, tentative, drawing his hand back at the last second. "I'm sorry." 

"It's fine." Hinata closes the distance, intertwining his fingers with Kenma's. The older boy stares at their linked hands with something akin to awe for a long time before finding his voice again. 

"I just worry about you so much." He tangles his free hand with Hinata's, tracing the prominent bones and knuckles and callused palms. "All those people...what if one of them hurts you?"

"Come on Ken, that won't happen." 

_But it could._ His thoughts echo. He sighs heavily, weary. "You trust too easily." 

"You don't trust enough." 

"I'm cautious." 

"And boring." A grin has sneaked onto Hinata's lips, curling impishly. 

"Boring, eh?" Kenma mimics his expression. "Wanna bet?" 

"Wait--"

Before he can object, Kenma is lifting him into the air, spinning him round as Hinata squeals and shrieks. Kenma's arms squeeze his midsection, forcing out laughter until he struggles for breath. It's only after his shrieks turn to breathless pleas that Kenma puts him down, arms remaining looped around the younger' waist. They remain like that for a long time: Kenma's arms wrapped securely around the other, Hinata's face buried in Kenma's sweater. Their breathing falls into sync. Eyes fluttering closed, Hinata lets the rhythm of Kenma's heartbeat soothe him. 

Kenma is first to break the silence. "You should get to bed." 

"What about you?" They speak in low whispers, as if anything louder would break the spell cast over them. 

"I'd have to get up soon enough." He disentangles his arms from Hinata (hesitant, fingers trailing over his sides in gentle retaliation.) His gaze is heavy still, but the weight has been lightened. The gold shines brighter when he says, "I'll see you tomorrow. Okay?" 

"Okay." 

The apartment feels colder once Kenma has left, as if all the light and warmth had clung to his coat and disappeared with him. Hinata shivers. Suddenly, without the steady _thump thump_ echoing in his ears, he feels alone. (Or perhaps he is lonely, always has been, but the thought requires too much concentration to resolve and he won't be facing that this morning.) 

He pads down the hallway to a poster clad doorway, pushing into Natsu's bedroom with barely a sound. Tiptoeing, careful not to disturb her, he crouches beside her bed and brushes her bangs out of her face. 

Her eyes spring open immediately. "Did Kozu leave?" 

He's not surprised- they were being pretty loud. "Yeah, but he'll be back. Sorry for making so much noise." 

"It's fine. I couldn't really hear what you were saying." Pushing herself onto her elbows, she gazes at him with eyes too serious for a seven year old. "What did you fight about?" 

"Work, mostly." 

"Mostly?" 

The intricacies of human emotions are still beyond Hinata; he can't imagine trying to explain them to a second grader. That doesn't stop him from trying. "Sometimes, when people are upset about a lot of things, those feelings boil over into one huge explosion of anger. So you may be mad about a lot of things, but all your anger ends up focused on that one thing that sets off the explosion." 

"That makes sense." 

Hinata smothers his laughter. "It's a good thing you're so smart." 

"I know." 

Chuckling lightly, he ruffles her hair, moving to stand. Her hand wraps around his wrist before he can take a step towards the door. "Shou-Dad? Would you..." she gnaws at her lip- "sleep here tonight?" 

His heart softens, an "awww" bubbling up in his throat. "Of course, Tangerine." 

She pulls back the covers for him to climb under, burrowing under his arm the moment he comes within range. The mattress is a bit too small, (his toes hang just over the edge and for once, he appreciates his short stature.) However, Natsu is warm and content beside him, her breath falling into an easy rhythm. It lulls him into a sense of comfort, secure in its familiarity, and before he knows it his eyes have drifted shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, guess who's back?   
> Before you yell and scream at me, I'm sorry. I've been dealing with stuff between hospitals and court and the like, things are a bit crazy over here guys. So I don't know what the update schedule will be like, but as of this moment, I fully intend to finish this story. I have not abandoned you. I hope you guys are willing to stick with me, because I can only do this because of your support.  
> -This chapter's title is from the song "Tender" by Stuck in the Sound  
> -If you guys need a refresher on Yachi being mentioned or the things she referenced, most of it was spelled out in Chapter 9, the (first?) flashback chapter  
> -Speaking of which, would you prefer to have Hinata's backstory explained by word of mouth or via flashback? Keep in mind it depends on which inspires me, but I'd like to hear your opinions.   
> -Kageyama is a big sucker for this kind of stuff. Fucker probably watches rom-coms and eats Rocky Road pass it on.   
> -There is no shame in people who choose to be exotic dancers and/or prostitutes. There are people who choose that and are perfectly happy. Hinata, however, does this because he had to give up his dreams of professional dancing and is desperate to support his sister. Anything negative related to the lifestyle is due to Hinata's perception of himself and nothing more.  
> Thank you all for your continued support during my absence and I hope to see you again soon! Remember to comment and subscribe! (That's how I know people are actually reading lol)


	16. Young Folks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsukishima makes a grand gesture. Kageyama tries (and doesn't totally fail.)

Tsukishima stumbles out of Kageyama’s bedroom similarly to how he entered: bedraggled, eyes bloodshot, hair plastered to the side of his face. There’s some drool dried at the corner of his mouth. The circles under his eyes go down to his cheekbones. He clashes with the couch, makes a sound resembling a dying bird, and slumps his way, albeit slowly, to take a seat at the kitchen counter. 

Kageyama watches all of this before sliding a mug of coffee with a side of painkillers over to the blonde. 

“Thanks.” 

Kageyama grunts an affirmative. The pair sit in silence for the next half hour or so: Kageyama pours himself a bowl of cereal and chews as quietly while he can as Tsukishima takes too many Ibuprofen and nurses his coffee. His glasses are askew on his face. Kageyama reaches out to right them. 

It’s Tsukishima that breaks the silence. “I’m sorry.” 

Kageyama shrugs. “It’s fine. You’ve seen me drunk.” 

“I didn’t mean to put you out like that.” 

“”S what friends do.” 

A faint smile crosses Tsukishima’s features. He looks like shit and he definitely knows it, but Kageyama can’t help but think how nice the expression looks on him. Before he can help it, Kageyama is smiling too. 

“You probably deserve an explanation.” 

“I’m not opposed.” He pauses, hears Suga’s voice in his head. “But you don’t have to talk about it if you aren’t ready.” 

Tsukishima waves away his concern. “You know how Yamaguchi and I haven’t moved in together even though we’ve been dating for a long time?” 

“Since high school, yeah.” 

“And he’s been asking me about it for like three years?” Swirling the remnants of his coffee, Tsukishima stares into the bottom of his mug as if it holds the answers. “We had a...pretty big fight about it yesterday.” 

“So you decided to get piss drunk and come to my apartment?” 

“I got drunk _at_ your apartment.” His smirk disintegrates. “He said that I’m not taking the relationship as seriously as him, which, I am I just--” He tears his fingers through his hair.-- “I’m just so fucking _scared_. Like, yeah, we’ve been together forever and shit but I know that I’m impossible to live with. No one should have to be around me for that long all the time. So if we move in together he’ll realize just how much of an ass I am and that he can do so much better and he _should_ do so much better so maybe we should move in together so he can finally realize and get out while he still can and that would be the honorable thing for me to do but I’m a selfish bastard and I don’t want to _lose_ him Kageyama I--” 

Kageyama places a hand on his shoulder. “Breathe, Kei.” 

He takes a shuddering gasp, head dropping to the table. His hands are shaking. Kageyama doesn’t comment. They stay there for a long moment while Tsukishima sobs, Kageyama steady and waiting. The positions have been reversed before. They have been in the same position before. 

“I don’t want to lose him,” Tsukishima croaks. 

“Then move in with him.” Tsukishima snorts. “No, I’m serious. If you don’t want the relationship to move forward that’s one thing, but refusing to become more serious because you’re scared will only drive Yamaguchi away.” Grabbing the blonde by the shoulders, he forces him to meet his gaze. “Yamaguchi loves you. You must’ve done something amazing in a past life, because he really fucking _loves_ you man. Fairytale style. And you’re gonna let that go because you’re scared of the future?” His eyes soften. “We’re all scared of what’s gonna happen, but that doesn’t mean you can root yourself in the past.” 

“Your understanding of the passage of time is lacking.” 

“I thought we were having a moment.” 

He laughs, rubbing at his eyes. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t mention it.”

“When did you get all insightful?” 

“I think half of that was quotes from Suga and the X-Files.” 

“Really?” 

“Oikawa makes me watch it.” He claps the blonde on the shoulder. “Now let’s get you cleaned up before your big moment.” 

“My what?” 

“When you go running into your boyfriend’s arms?” Kageyama grins. “You didn’t think I’d get involved _not_ to see you crazy kids have your big romcom moment? Oh no sir, we’re going all Woody Allen on this one.”

oOo

“Kageyama this was a terrible idea and I hate you for it,” Tsukishima whispers.

Kageyama mimics his tone. “You’ll thank me later.” 

The pair stand inside the elementary school, trying not to look too imposing in front of the elderly secretary. Tsukishima has showered and dressed in something nice, i.e. sweater and jeans, and looks extremely uncomfortable holding the giant bouquet of flowers in his arms. It’s a wide array of colors, but pink is the centerpiece (“because pink means forever,” the florist had crooned.) Kageyama just threw on a tshirt and some paint splattered overalls, although now he’s wishing he had worn something more cheerful. The two of them already tower at least two feet over the little old lady glancing over their I.D.s. 

“Tobio Kageyama and Kei Tsukishima, right?” 

“Yes ma’am,” they chorus. 

She tilts her glasses down, eyeing Tsukishima critically. “Are you Yamaguchi-sensei’s boyfriend then?” 

He gulps. “Yes ma’am.” 

Instantly her expression brightens, mouth curling into a smile. “Wonderful. Now, would you like me to give those flowers to him or would you like to do it yourself?” 

“II’d like to. I-If that’s all right ma’am.” He didn’t expect it to be this easy. 

“All right. They should be in lunch right now. Classroom 2A.” She leans in close, grinning as if they share some sort of kinship or cause. “Go get ‘em boys!” 

As they make their way down the hallway, Tsukishima turns on Kageyama once more. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.” 

“I’m not making you do anything.” 

“Oh, then let’s leave.” 

He grabs him by the arm. “Don’t you dare.” Children’s laughter and delighted shrieks can be heard from several of the classrooms. It must be lunchtime for many of them. “Look, I’m not Oikawa or Suga, so I don’t know a lot about this whole romance thing.” 

“I have seen you cry over The Notebook. Twice.” 

“But I _do_ know,” he continues, talking over him, “that Yamaguchi will appreciate a gesture like this, and if you both just stew in your argument for any longer things will only get worse.” 

He scowls. “I hate it when you’re right.” 

Yamaguchi’s classroom is a colorful place. The tables are all bright pastels, children’s projects line the walls. He had decided to decorate his desk at the front of the room with a garland made of paper frogs. The children dart around the room: playing with dolls or cars or coloring as they nosh on apple slices. A little girl and boy argue over who could wear the princess dress. In the middle of it all is Yamaguchi, letting a little girl with orange hair draw on his arm in marker. He glances up when the door opens, eyes growing wide.

“Tsukki?” His voice is barely a whisper, but Tsukishima hears him loud and clear. 

The blonde offers a nervous smile. “Hey there.” 

The students look on, voices softening to curious murmurs as they watch their teacher approach the tall man hesitantly, stepping lightly over strewn toys and around work tables. He stops a few feet away, staring awestruck at the mass of flowers pouring out of Tsukishima’s arms. 

He holds them out, an offering. “I’m sorry Yams. I’m sorry that I’m such a di--” He eyes the children.-- “mess. I love you. I love you more than anything and if you’re willing to put up with me…” Pause. Kageyama nods. Deep breath. “I’d like to take the next step with you, and move in together.” Silence. “I-If that’s okay.” 

Tears well in the brunette's eyes, but he’s smiling, smiling like he’s been given the best gift in the world. It always catches Kageyama off-guard to see people in love. “I’d like that.” 

The children cheer when they kiss, startling the pair out of their trance. Tsukishima blushes wildly as Yamaguchi laughs, taking the flowers from him. Kageyama watches them chat: the soft smile on Tsukishima’s face as he watches his partner arrange the bouquet in a plastic bucket, how Yamaguchi’s eyes brighten when he looks at the other. They’re still lost in their own world, in a way. Maybe that’s what happens when your world becomes another person. 

“So are they married now?” 

Kageyama startles, looking down at the orange-haired girl from before standing beside him. She’s familiar, in the way her brown eyes catch the light and her hair curls around her face. She watches him with intent eyes. “Hey, I remember you!” 

Ohmigod it’s Hinata’s daughter. 

Kageyama struggles to compose himself. “Natsu, right?” 

“Yep!” Her smile is blinding. “Are you friends with Yamaguchi-sensei?” 

“Uh...yeah.” A glance over at the two other men; they stare dreamily into each other’s eyes, unaware of his predicament. 

“You brought his boyfriend here, right?” 

“Someone had to.” 

“Had to what?” 

“Deal with their idiocy.” 

Oh shit. He probably shouldn’t have said that to a kid, but she laughs either way, so he guesses it’s fine. He wonders if Hinata likes the same kind of jokes. “How’s your dad?” 

Her expression reads as if she’s not used to people asking that question. A beat passes before realization lights her features. “Oh, Shou-dad? He’s good. He was talking to Yamaguchi-sensei this morning too. I think they’re gonna get coffee or something. I don’t like coffee, but Kozu and Shou-dad like coffee, so I guess it’s okay.” 

“Kozu?” 

“Kozume Kenma. Him and Shou are best friends.” 

He’d heard about that guy from Hinata. Something was bugging him though. “Hey Natsu?” 

“Hm?” 

“Why do you use your dad’s first name?” 

She eyes him a moment, thinking, before looking away sheepishly. “Well, he just let me start calling him dad.” 

What the fuck? 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Well he’s always been like a dad to me, raising me and the like. But technically he’s my big brother. I mean, I know that I have a mom and dad that birthed me or whatever, but I don’t remember them. Shou-dad says it’s cause we left mom when I was really young: she was a bad lady, so I guess not really my mom at all? But I talked to Shou and he said that since he’s like my dad I can call him dad so now he is my Dad.” 

She grins, pleased with her explanation. Contrastly, Kageyama stands dumbstruck. “So he’s your brother?”

“I _just_ said he’s my dad. Weren’t you listening?”

“No I mean…” He considers her words for a minute. That would explain how young Hinata is. “That...actually makes a lot of sense.” 

“Right?” 

“But wait, your mom--” Natsu reminds him of a baby deer, doe-eyed and trusting. He probably shouldn’t be dragging up any family issues. He forgot how young she is; she kind of acts less like a kid and more like a tiny adult. “Nevermind actually.” 

“You’re an artist, right Mr. Kageyama?” 

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’m an artist too!” Oh gods when did she get that close to his face. “You wanna see?” Instead of waiting for a response, she promptly snatches him by the wrist and drags him over to the table she had been sitting at, pulling a stack of papers over to them. Kageyama sits in a chair much too small for him, watching the small girl flit about. 

“See? This one is of an owl who likes to paint, but is sad because he doesn’t have opposable thumbs. So he has to learn how to balance the brushes between his feathers! And this one--” She hands him another paper.-- “is of the sun and moon. They’re two nice ladies who fall in love and can only meet during eclipses. That’s when they hang out on the beach.” She places each of her creations gently on the table, her care odd in comparison to her fast-paced presentation. “This is of a dog who’s also a helicopter. He saves lives, but his owner doesn’t know.” 

The drawings are crude, but show a surprising level of skill for a second grader. She had even used a ruler to make comic panels for each of her stories. Some of them have a lot of words, but she had drawn out full strips with just colorful explosions and sceneries. For a kid with only a school-set of markers at her disposal, she’s pretty good. Kageyama is appropriately impressed. 

“You’re a really good artist, Natsu.”

She beams. “Thanks! I mean, they’re not much compared to you, but…” Her smile softens, embarrassed. “I wanna make stuff like this when I’m older. That’s why I gotta get a lot better.” She puffs out her chest determinedly, pigtails bobbing in time with her movements. 

It yanks on Kageyama’s heartstrings. “You know, I have some old sets of colored pencils you can have, if you’d like.” 

“REALLY?” Oh fuck he’s gonna go blind.

“If it’s okay with your dad.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!!” Kageyama stumbles when she throws her arms around his neck, giving an excited squeal of thanks. 

He pushes her off, feigning annoyance. “It’s no big deal kid.” 

She sees right through him. “Mhm.” She’s grinning again. It reminds Kageyama of Hinata: perpetually smiling. “Will you show me how to draw hands, Mr. Kageyama?” 

“Uf. Only if you’re ready for the worst part of art.” 

“I thought that was the money.” 

“Too real, kid.” 

She snickers, pulling out new papers for them. She sticks her tongue out in concentration when she draws, insists that Kageyama use a pink marker. Her voice is basically a continuous shout. He doesn’t mind so much. Maybe, Kageyama thinks, ruffling her hair, Hinata having a kid wasn’t as big a deal as he assumed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey what up!!! I didn't expect to get this up so soon, but I'm not complaining.   
> -This chapter's title is "Young Folks" by Peter Bjorn and John.  
> -Kageyama and Tsukishima are best friends y'all can fight me.  
> -Kageyama isn't great at emotional talks, but he knows Tsukishima well by this point. He's also old enough and mature enough to realize that there's a time and place for everything. Like I said, the two of them have done this before.   
> -Natsu is rambly as shit and I relate to her. Also if you're like "why did she tell Kageyama all that??" uh she's a little kid they have literally no filter I'm an uncle I should know.   
> More plot to come later. We needed some Kageyama/Natsu bonding and more of my low-key BROTP of Kageyama/Tsukishima. I'll see you guys when I post the next chapter! Thanks for reading and enjoying. Let me know what you thought.


End file.
